Smells Like Teen Spirit
by red-painted-rose
Summary: Draco Malfoy is an international supermodel. He has walked for Gucci and Versace, he is praised by fashion icons like Naomi Campbell and Kate Moss. He's barely twenty and already a millionaire...yet when he meets Harry Potter, none of that matters. Explicit slash.
1. Meeting Draco Malfoy

Hello! Thanks for clicking on my story. Fanfiction (blasted thing) says that I can't post images for a 24 hour period because it wants to ostracise me and make me feel like a newbie. I've had my account for like 18 hours. I am so not a newbie.

Chapters, on average, will be over 3/4k+ and this story will almost certainly have light to heavy smut every chapter/other chapter. This is definitely a H/D romance and will start to be one from the 3rd chapter onwards. Next chapter is called _Meeting Harry Potter_ as you could probably guess.

I hope you enjoy! Please follow, fave and tell me what you think :)

_Rose xx_

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter One : Meeting Draco Malfoy_

* * *

The sky outside was pale blue, beams of yellow bursting from the east as the sun rose; ever so gradual, almost reluctant. It was too early to be awake; to early to crave nicotine like a drowning person craved oxygen.

Draco Malfoy's chilling grey eyes opened and he yawned. It was five in the morning, according to the alarm clock on the Hilton Hotel bedside cabinet. There were loose arms draped around his naked body, hot skin flush and burning against his, and ... *snore* ... the gentle snores of Dean Thomas from behind him.

Draco smiled softly. He remembered the way Dean had thrown him on the bed yesterday and fucked him the hardest Draco reckoned he had ever been fucked. It was a shame that Dean was in the closet, so far back into the closet he was finding Action Man dolls from infancy.

He stretched and Dean loosened the arms around Draco. 'Dray,' he slurred sleepily as he looked up, eyes closed and warm breath fanning on Draco's face.

'Go back to bed. I'm just popping out for a fag,' the other man whispered softly. He kissed Dean's brown shoulder and then got out of bed.

The hotel penthouse was enormous and resided in Times Square, West Forty-Second Street. Of course Draco Malfoy would get the best penthouse in the whole of New York City. He was the most successful white, English supermodel in the whole world, perhaps.

Standing up, he stretched lithe, rippling muscles, illuminated by the corner of gold sifting through the window. Draco put on a silk robe, bare as the day he was born underneath, and grabbed his Camel cigarettes, ridiculously urban and hipster of him, before slipping outside onto the huge balcony. It was barely even a balcony, he decided, and was more like an extra lounge outside.

He roguishly ran a hand through tousled, silvery blond locks as he placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a clipper. The smoke sifted seductively through his body and he sighed in pleasure, effulgent eyes even more radiant due to the nicotine fix the cigarette was providing.

Draco turned on his phone and within seconds, was bombarded with alerts, messages and missed calls. He replied to only two of the forty four texts; one from his mother and the other from Severus Snape, his manager.

Just as he was about to turn his phone off and start another cigarette, he got a call. Draco sighed as he pressed ANSWER.

'Hello?' he asked, placing another Camel into his mouth and lighting it.

'Draco, you got my texts?' asked the bored voice of Severus Snape.

'Just replied.'

'Okay, well I'm flying over to France now to meet Karl Lagerfeld. He wants you to appear for Chanel Haute Couture in the Spring-'

Draco laughed. 'I refuse to appear on the runway with a watering can, Sev. You know me better than that.'

'Have you seen how much he's paying? Besides, he would certainly let you decide what you got to wear out of-'

'A selection that's just as ghastly.' Draco turned to see the balcony door opening, Dean appearing in all his glowing glory. 'Anyway Sev, I'll speak to you later. Don't tell Lagerfeld anything until I see you guys but I'm busy right now.'

Severus huffed on the phone. 'You're always fucking busy. I'll speak to you later then Draco. But at least stop turning your phone off. It's worrying-'

The blond man chuckled as he flicked his cigarette and exhaled. 'Bye Sev.' Slowly turning in his comfortable seat, Draco appraised the tall, darker man before him and instinctually licked him lips. Dean was beautiful: cropped black hair, smooth brown skin, prominent muscles dancing with each movement, each breath. He stood at least two or three inches taller than Draco's already tall six foot, three inch stature.

What was most important however, was that Dean Thomas _fucked like a champ._

Dean fell into the seat beside Draco and leant forward for a smoky kiss. 'Urgh, you taste like an ash tray,' he laughed.

Draco smiled as he fiddled around with his deck for another cigarette. 'Did I wake you up?'

'A little. But it's fine I guess. I do need to leave in a few hours.' Dean started massaging Draco's shoulders, his seductive touch killing the younger man as he rolled flesh between his hands.

'Fuck, you're turning me on,' breathed Draco as he leant back, tilting his head to the side so Dean could kiss and suck his neck.

'Yesterday's party was awesome,' murmured Dean as his hands travelled lower, pinching the flesh of Draco's sides and stomach. The blond man moaned low and nodded.

'It was a _very_ good party. The booze was good, the music was good,' then he broke off for a laugh, 'and I especially thought that the coke was marvellous.'

'Hmm, you can always rely on Luna to throw a great party with high coke.' The taller man stood up and insinuated himself between Draco's long, thin legs; manipulating the blond's body so it was pliant beneath his subtle ministrations. With soft, pianist fingers, Dean took out Draco's penis from the folds of dark silk and grinned when it hardened in his hands.

'You're mighty horny this morning,' Dean whispered against his lips, stroking his face with one hand and slowly awakening his shaft with the other.

'You know what that means,' slurred Draco, pushing down Dean's head so it was level with his crotch. 'Suck.'

Heat consumed him; wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket. He could barely breathe. Dean was _so good_ at sucking dick.

'Fuck,' he breathed as he tangled a hand in thick, coarse hair. 'Good boy-'

'I'm not a boy,' laughed Dean as he looked up to stare at Draco with a purse of plush, wet lips. 'I'm older than you-'

'And I'm Draco Malfoy. I can damn well call you a boy if I- oh god,' he broke off, eyes squeezed shut as Dean swallowed him whole. 'If I-I w-w-want.'

There was chuckling against his penis and all he could bring himself to do was put his other hand in Dean's hair, hold his head and fuck his face.

'Oh god,' he panted.

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

Draco Malfoy had a brilliant life. His father was an aristocrat and his mother came from a family of ridiculously old money. He grew up an only, and thus _very lonely_, young boy. He went to Eton College until he was scouted at the tender age of thirteen. Suddenly, his whole life changed rapidly.

Draco was doing runway editorials, was meeting international figureheads of modelling like Naomi Campbell, Kate Moss and Mathias Lauridsen and unexpectedly, Draco Malfoy was an international supermodel.

He walked for Hugo Boss at fourteen, Versace at fifteen, fucking _Gucci_ at sixteen; he was a millionaire and wasn't even twenty yet. He was the youngest English cover model for Vogue. Glamour magazine had called him the hottest man in the world. He was famous all across the world and yet, he was not very happy. He wasn't even a little happy.

Because his manager Severus Snape had fucking signed him on for Chanel Haute Couture.

'You do know,' Sev had said on the phone, 'that this is fucking Chanel. You don't turn down Chanel unless you're Naomi Campbell-'

'I'm Draco Malfoy! I'm fucking huge! I'm as good as-'

'Don't you dare,' laughed Severus. 'Don't you dare say you're as good as Naomi Campbell. No one is. Anyway, shut up and get on a plane as soon as possible. I need you to go to London. Karl Lagerfeld is coming over to meet you and a few other people on Friday.'

'Oh, but I just got back to NYC and you know I haven't been here for like a month. Can't you get him to come over here?' He was teasing and was already calling up room service to help him pack because Draco did not have time to waste on silly things like _packing._

'Shut up,' laughed Severus. 'Leave as soon as you can. I'll come around to yours tomorrow.'

'Get me a ticket now then please, or send me a jet, I don't know. I'm in the Hilton Hotel.'

'Alright, I'll get someone to pick you up within the hour.' Severus sounded distracted; voice breaking as he stopped to do whatever it was he was doing, before he continued to speak. 'See you soon.'

'I'll see you later,' droned Draco before he ended the call, threw his phone down and turned just in time to see two maids enter his room.

'Mr Malfoy, sir. What would you like?' one of the maid's said in a thick accent.

Polish. _Definitely Polish,_ he decided. The other one appeared to be Chinese or Filipino and had the smallest nose Draco had ever seen in his life.

He bit his lip and then shrugged. 'Pack my stuff, I guess. I've slept in all the rooms at least once so check each one.' He waved a hand dismissively, signalling that they should get to work and sat down on the sofa, cigarette readily perched in his mouth.

Running a hand through silky hair, Draco picked his phone up once more and opened Dean's contact profile in his phonebook. He really did fancy a quick fuck before he left for London...

London, _his home__. _

* * *

I hope you liked that!

Supermodel Draco seems so hot to me. I can't wait until he meets Harry! I'll make sure it's worth it, I promise. Quick question: do you think I should include Crabbe and Goyle, or disregard their stinky Slytherin arses? A part of me is saying yes and the bigger, more important part is saying no...

Please tell me what you think! Enjoy the rest of your day! xx


	2. Meeting Harry Potter

Thank you very much for the follows, faves and for the comment. Every alert makes me smile all the more wide!

P.S. You might find Hermione a little OOC, but maybe this is how she actually would be if she didn't know Ron yet and was filthy rich. Who knows?

Enjoy!

_Rose xx_

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Two : Meeting Harry Potter_

* * *

'Harry,' called a loud voice, off somewhere in the large Potter manor he was barely conscious in. Harry wasn't sure _who_ it was. It could be a maid, simply cleaning. It could also be, a less rational part of his brain told him, a _mass murderer._ He was nursing the worst hangover ever.

'Urgh,' he moaned. Harry stretched his long limbs out on the bed, fingers brushing an empty cup of Starbucks coffee on the pillow beside him, and his favourite album ever (of course it was the Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd) playing loudly, though how or why he had no idea. Maybe he left it on last night?

Harry wasn't sure just _how_ he managed to hear the caller over the loud music. The caller repeated itself. 'Harry!' It was female. He looked up and groaned; the movement sending burning pulses through his head.

'Hermione?' He asked curiously.

Harry straightened up in his bed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was at least wearing boxers, he only had three hickeys on his pale white chest and other than that, looked alright … that is, alright for a boy who had spent the whole weekend drunk off his face, fucking girls and boys and all that was in between.

Harry's bedroom door flew open and he jumped. It was Lily Potter. His beautiful and frightening mother. She was not wearing the gentle smile that was usually painted across her pretty, youthful face.

'When did you get back?' She was wearing six inch heels, towering over him as she strutted towards his four-poster, golden bed. Her pencil skirt, black and tight, was a present from Harry. He hoped by complimenting her in it she would remember…

Harry yawned as he reached over for his rolling tobacco. His hands came back empty, ruddy cigarettes. 'Last night I think.'

'You think?' Lily almost screamed as she stole his attention with a deliberate snap of her heel. 'It's three in the afternoon.'

Her son smiled sweetly. 'Oh, this morning then.'

Lily threw the newspaper she held at him light-heartedly, and deftly, he caught it one-handed with an infuriating grin; so like his father's, inherently cocky in its demeanour. 'I was so worried Harry!'

'Oh, mum, I've got a major hangover. Be more quiet please.' Harry moaned low in his throat.

'I know you're nineteen Harry. You're not a kid. But send me a text when you disappear for two days.'

He yawned. 'Sure thing mum. I got your text by the way, the one about busy schedules. So, what events am I being dragged to this week?'

'Just a Chanel couture runway walk I think. We got invitations so we have to go. The thing is, I only got two. What's more is that your father can't come because of some stupid football thing in the States-'

'So…' He said, straightening up and running a hand through lengthening black locks.

'So you can have both tickets. Bring whoever you want.'

'When is it?' Harry asked, tittering dangerously on the edge of reluctance, as he reached over for his phone.

'Next week. It's going to be huge and there will be lots of paparazzi and journalists, so please be careful and avoid being caught doing ... anything…' She smiled and let the sentence hang suspended in the air, choking and writhing.

'Anything…?' Harry encouraged with a wide grin.

'Hmm. Anything you know would upset me.'

'But mum,' he moaned. 'That means I can't have any fun.'

Lily clapped her hands together and laughed. Her eyes flickered across his body and she rose an eyebrow upon noticing the hickeys on his chest.

'So, this party you went to-'

Harry jumped up and stood tall, towering over his mother irrespective of the tall heels she wore. 'Have fun with whatever you're doing mum.'

'Rightttt,' she leered before marching past him and hurrying out of the room. 'Invite someone soon. Oh and Harry! Will I be expecting you home for dinner?'

'Probably not,' he told her and then he closed his bathroom door just after he heard his bedroom door close.

Harry thought his mother was lovely. She was a successful published writer and was married to the most famous English football player since David Beckham. Of course, Harry's father, at thirty nine, was retired. But his career had been mighty fruitful and long-lasting.

Harry however was not like his parents: he was not hard working like his mother or wise like his father. He was the son of two filthy rich parents, was pretty famous himself and most importantly, was _spoilt rotten._

He brushed his teeth whilst messaging Hermione. He knew how happy she would be to come.

_Wanna come with me to a Chanel Haute Couture show sometime next week? xx_

The response was instant.

_YESYESYESYESYES XXXXXXX_

Harry laughed and sent her a reply.

_Come to mine then, I'll see you soon xxx_

Then he put his phone down and looked in the mirror, eyes blazing like burning emeralds. Harry usually had his raven black hair short but for the past few weeks, had been testing out the longer haircut and pleasantly found that it also suited him. It was long enough to keep in a miniature ponytail and he thought he looked hotter with long hair.

He was lightly muscled and had long, supple limbs. Furthermore, he was quite tall, at least six foot one. Interrupting his self-evaluation, Harry's phone started to ring.

'I'm like five minutes from your house,' Hermione said when he answered.

'Hello to you too.' He laughed.

'Oh, hello Harry. I'm in a taxi.'

'You were quick.'

'I was already in the library near your house, just getting books for my dissertation. But anyway, that doesn't matter! How on _earth_ did you get tickets to see Chanel's Haute Couture?'

Harry rose an eyebrow and patiently waited before Hermione laughed. 'Right, you're the son of Lily and James Potter, duh. Okay well, are they good seats?'

'We'll be getting to watch an exclusive show, I think that's good enough, but I'm not sure about the seats.' He took off his boxers and stepped into his shower, still on the phone. 'I'm gonna have a quick shower so I'll see you soon.'

'Well I'm a few minutes away so be quick. See you-'

'Bye!' Then he threw his phone on top of his boxers on the other side of his bathroom, lessening the impact of the drop on his iPhone considerably, before he turned the shower on and was instantly stabbed by tiny beads of scalding water..

Harry grunted as he let his head fall back, enjoying the way the water attacked his body, like needles prickling him. He ran his hands through jaw length black hair, over his fit body … cupping his balls…

His phone rang but he ignored it, quickly washing shampoo from straight black hair. When Harry was done after ten minutes, he wrapped a towel around his waist and entered his bedroom, only to find his best friend Hermione Granger stretched out, like a pretty cat, on his bed.

She looked up and smiled. 'Those hickeys are ridiculous.'

'Turn around for a second,' he said as he grabbed boxers from his drawers. Hermione turned for a brief moment and he barely had the chance to tuck his cock into his boxers before she turned back around. 'Jesus Hermione.' He said, pulling his boxers up all the way.

'I've seen it all. Anyway, tell me everything about it.'

'Err,' said Harry quizzically. 'It's a Chanel, runway walk I think It's very expensive and prestige, we get to go. I think that's all I know?

She jumped up, heels clicking as she strutted over to Harry. Hermione looked very pretty, wide brown eyes boring into Harry's as she pursed plump pink lips. 'When is it?'

'What day is it today?'

She laughed. 'Monday. That party really messed you up, didn't it?'

'You should have stayed on Sunday too. It was even crazier.' He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

'You know I had that dissertation to start planning for university. But I'm glad you had fun. Did you hit it off with Cedric? I heard he was flirting with you all yesterday.'

'Who told you that?' Harry laughed as he stepped away, grinning when Hermione slapped his bum suggestively. 'Nope, I fucked _him_.' Then Harry groaned and shook his head. 'You can't tell anyone though.'

'What was it like?' She squealed, throwing herself on his bed.

'Amazing, only he's going out with gorgeous Cho Chang and I feel so bad.'

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'You shouldn't feel bad Harry. He's the one who should feel bad. You haven't done … much wrong…'

'I also had sex with Angelina Johnson, as a last sort of hurrah and that was awesome too. It was just a great party in general. Lots of booze and sex to go around.'

'My god, you're a whore.,' Hermione said with a reluctant laugh. 'Okay, so back to Chanel Haute. I have to buy a dress. I need to look perfect!'

Harry shrugged. 'You always look perfect Hermione.' He truly meant it too. She was pretty much the most important person to him, like a sister more than anything. They had been best friends since nursery, stayed in contact through his Eton school days and were still hanging out every other day, if not each waking minute.

'Thank you,' said Hermione with a pink tinge to her delightful rouge cheeks. 'But really! I have this gorgeous blue Versace dress but it's got a slit on the side and I'm not sure if I want to be provocative or not. I mean the slit goes quite high.'

'Why not show off your legs?' Harry said as he reached over to the top drawer of his cabinet to get his rolling tobacco. He saw the green glimmering when he opened it and cheered; he knew he had thrown them down sometime in the morning, after having stumbled in, drunk off his face and with his trousers half way down his legs.

'Because I want to appear elegant.' She said with a shake of her head; tumbling curls avalanching forward to partially veil her face. Then with smiles chasing themselves across her lips, she said slowly, 'We could always match. You could get a nice suit from Versace, black with a skinny tie. Then with you on my arm I could be wearing nothing and still appear elegant.'

He laughed as he lit his rollie. 'Right Hermione. Could you open a window?'

'Don't you want to put on some clothes?' She asked, signalling at his mostly naked body and raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged as he placed the fag between pink lips and rifled in his drawers for a lighter. 'It's not cold outside. Back on the topic of fashion and runway walks, I'm not exactly sure when it is but I do know that it's sometime next week.'

Hermione sat herself at his computer desk, switched on the iMac and waited patiently for it to start. 'Don't worry, we can find out now. I'm so excited!'

'Imagine all the beautiful girls.'

'And boys.'

Harry laughed and took a long toke. 'Yes ... and boys. Delightful male models, how could I forget?'

Her fingers danced on his keyboard rapidly as she searched for the date of the event. 'Okay, it's on Friday.'

'Right, I think I have plans-'

'What?'

'But I'll cancel. Jesus Hermione, I didn't know you'd be this excited.'

She rubbed her hands together and grinned widely at him. 'I am so excited. Of course I am. This is Chanel. Not Givenchy, not Hugo Boss, not Miu Miu, all of which I would still be excited for. But still this is Chanel.'

Harry rolled his eyes as he huffed, '_Girls_' under his breath. 'So, when do you want to go shopping? I'll probably send mum to get me a suit-'

For the third, fourth, millionth time perhaps, she interrupted him with a shake of her head, carelessly pushing curls from her face. 'No. We'll go shopping together. We have to look amazing.'

'Right,' he replied.

Hermione inspected the time on the computer screen and then nodded to herself. 'Okay, get changed. I'll call us a cab and we can make our way to Shepherd's Bush. I fancy going for some lunch and browsing around a bit.'

Harry moaned low in his throat and blew smoke deliberately in her direction, grinning when she batted the wisps of grey away from her. 'Hermione. Do we have to? Do we have to right now, today?'

'Yes!' she almost screamed, like the suggestion of shopping on _any other day _was simply preposterous. Then he face softened considerably and she tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear. 'I haven't been to a runway walk in over a year and this is for Chanel! I have to look amazing!'

The raven haired man scoffed. 'You always look amazing-'

'Shut up,' she interrupted with a giggle. 'Flattery won't get you out of this. Now get changed whilst I call a cab.' When he tossed his cigarette out of the window and fell back to moan, she rolled on top of him and started to tickle like mad. 'Come on Harry!'

'Get off me. Alright, alright, I'm getting ready!' he slipped out from under her and huffed dramatically. 'Bloody bird.'

'I heard that,' Hermione shouted as she threw a pillow at him. He stuck his tongue out and left to enter his wardrobe, feet dragging as he resigned to the fact that he was going shopping with Hermione, with the worst hangover ever.

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

It was not until Wednesday that Harry and Hermione found something to wear. She had decided not to wear her Versace dress because Hermione believed that the simpler the dress, the more elegant and beautiful she would look, especially when surrounded by international models and superstars. The shop that appealed to her most was Dior. However, despite having browsed Dior at least twice during the week, it was not until they visited a Dior shop in Oxford Street, a huge store with several floors, that Hermione found a dress she looked flawless in.

Harry's eyes scanned her body as she slowly pushed back the blind to the cubicle. He swallowed noisily when she stepped out of the large cubicle in the private dressing room they were in. Her shoes and bag had already been bought a few days before but the dress was what she said mattered most.

She had chosen a black dress, tight, made from soft, smooth silk; and it fitted her so well, accentuating her curves in all the right places. The cut was low so her breasts bulged out, burst out, so much so that Harry was a little turned on. She really was so beautiful.

'I think I've found it,' Hermione said in a low voice as she turned around, both for the benefit of seeing herself at all angles in the huge mirror and also for showing Harry precisely what she was on about.

Hermione had most certainly _found_ it.

'You look good,' he told her confidently. 'Very good. It's a nice dress.'

With pink cheeks, Hermione turned to look fully at herself in the mirror once more. 'Right. Well, are you going to try that suit on? It really goes well with my dress.'

She strutted around in front of the mirror, watching herself in all angles, with hair both up and down, with and without a bra, until she was confident that this Dior dress was really it. With an excited squeal, Hermione pulled the dress off and hung it up on the wall, turning to quickly put on her skirt and shirt. 'Go on then,' she huffed, one leg in the skirt, 'try on your suit.'

Harry sighed and slowly started to undress while Hermione talked about how happy she was with her find. 'I mean, Dior really is the master of simplicity and elegance. Gucci was just ridiculous, the only dresses I did like weren't even in my size and I refuse to wait until the day of the walk to get it and buy it. So much could happen! But with this dress however...' He let her speak whilst he removed his clothes because her voice was calming and she was clearly excited, nattering away.

'I'm not a fan of skinny ties,' he moaned when he was almost finished, tying the long thin piece of fabric around his neck and frowning. 'They look weird.'

'No they don't,' she huffed. 'And irrespective of whether they look weird or not, they're in and they look great on you. We need to look as fashionable as possible. Like those loafers you got yesterday? When are you ever going to wear them again?' She asked sceptically. 'Probably never. But they're in and they will go splendidly with this suit.'

Harry looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was half-up, his skin flush from the exertion of shopping with Hermione. And the suit looked…

'Splendid,' Hermione murmured as she walked around to tighten his tie and tuck hair behind his ear.

Harry's eyes ran over his reflection; glazed with pleasure at how perfect he looked. Tall and slender, young and healthy; he really did look _splendid._

'And a little bit like Bond.'

Harry laughed.

* * *

This was so much fun to write. I promise a longer chapter next time! The next chapter has to be longer! Draco and Harry are going to meet!

Hit the review button and tell me what you think. xx


	3. Meet and Greet

A/N: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Three : Meet and Greet_

* * *

The show was bursting with life and Harry had not even entered yet. It was a particularly warm evening and the sky looked splendid as if it knew what day it was today and wanted to make the evening as brilliant as possible.

Harry Potter was queuing up with his best friend Hermione Granger and thought they made a rather marvellous-looking pair. Hermione was dressed in her soft, silken black dress, clinging to her body like a layer of water whilst Harry was dressed in a fashionable, striking black suit. It may have seemed to the casual outside observer that they were more than friends, most certainly with the way his long arm was slung loosely around her waist, and that was what Harry found most fun.

It also made it better to know that half the men they had walked past glared at him with unjustified, infuriating jealousy.

There were flashing cameras with blinding lights snapping away at Harry, Hermione and every other person waiting to be admitted. He frowned when he looked down at his stunning watch, given to him as a eighteenth birthday present from his uncle, with bright diamonds encrusted on the rim. It was his favourite thing.

Shaking his head, Harry asked through clenched teeth, 'What is _taking_ so long?'

'Be patient Harry,' Hermione said as she shared a small smile with one of the men standing behind her, bright eyes and even brighter teeth. He was very pretty. The way he watched Hermione however had tingles of jealousy racing up Harry's arm, so much so that he wrapped his second arm tight around Hermione and pressed her to him. The man she shared a smile with watched her like she was his favourite meal and he was ever so excited to _pounce _... _devour _... _demolish._

When they finally did find their way to the front of the queue, Harry handed over the tickets and smiled politely at the clearly stressed, middle-aged woman at the door.

'Harry Potter plus one,' he said smoothly.

She barely inspected the tickets, handing them back briskly. 'Enter please, Lavender will lead you over to your seats. Thank you sir, miss and enjoy you're evening.'

Harry smiled, placed a hand on the small of Hermione's back and went over to the blond-haired, yellow-eyed girl (her eyes really did look yellow).

'Hello Mr Potter,' Lavender said. 'I'm a huge fan of your mother's books!'

'Her books are brilliant,' he replied softly.

She nodded eagerly with a face-splitting smile. 'Follow me sir.'

She lead through a busy, bustling corridor where Harry and Hermione got to glimpse some models running around in one of the cavernous changing rooms, before they entered the huge hall. There was a long cat walk spread out in the centre of the room and there were chairs surrounding it with at least a dozen rows.

'We have got good seats,' Hermione said in awe when her and Harry were placed in the third row. It was brilliant.

There were more celebrities then they could count, and whilst Harry was used to being surrounded by them, he couldn't help but grin, especially when Hermione grabbed his hand and squealed with delight when they saw Naomi Campbell sitting in the best seat in the whole room, directly in front of the runway.

And of course she would sit there. She was the world's most famous, and best, supermodel.

Waiters were walking around in pristine white suits with trays of champagne and little delicacies. Harry gulped down his first flute champagne in one go and went a little slower on his second, savouring the rich taste.

Glitterati streamed through into the large hall which was adorned with twinkling lights, like flying fireflies had hijacked all the space in the room. What was more was the pristine, beautiful catwalk laid out in the centre.

Hermione sipped her champagne as she looked around, excitement colouring her otherwise pink cheeks; chocolate eyes effulgent in their radiance. Harry leant back in his seat, drained his second glass and waved at one of the waiters for a third.

He was more than a little glad that he had accepted his mother's request to attend the Chanel Haute Couture show; it was already proving to be quite the fabulous event.

'Oh Harry, look, it's Kate Moss-'

**oOo**

Draco grunted as another pin prickled him. 'Watch what you're fucking doing,' he hissed as he twitched, making the job of the young woman pinning his trousers that much harder.

'I am so sorry Mr Malfoy.' The woman's voice trembled and he almost felt guilty; she was frightened out of her mind. Who _wouldn't_ be? This was _Draco-fucking-Malfoy._

Draco was almost tempted to run a hand through his hair, but he restrained himself; not in the mood to get his hair redone for the third time.

Then he saw Luna strutting towards him like she was already on the catwalk, her hips and breasts bouncing with each jovial step. She looked beautiful in a floral, beaded crop top with reds, yellows, oranges, pinks, and a completely contrasting dark green pencil skirt. She grinned at Draco and leant forward for a quick kiss. He grinned into the peck and licked his lips, stained with ruby red lipstick, when she stepped back.

'Hello!' she cried happily. Luna was always cheerful … ethereal ... floaty ... she was someone who would always irrevocably be unruly. It was in her nature to be so happy and wild, similar to how it was within Draco's nature to like dick.

Luna Lovegood was one of Draco's dearest friends. She had been his first time in fact, as well as his first love. And Luna Lovegood most certainly _made love good_, from what he could remember.

'Take a break,' Draco told the young pretty girl pinning his trousers.

'But sir, I was told to finish this' she protested. He ignored her though and took Luna's hand, leading her away towards the tables near the back of the room.

'Do you like what Karl designed for me?' Luna asked, doing a little spin for him and laughing when he nodded. 'I don't like my hair though. They've made me look like a girl in nursery.'

'Pigtails suit you Luna,' laughed Draco as he swiped a cigarette from Blaise Zabini, who had just put it in his mouth and was getting ready to light it. 'Thanks Blaise.'

'Shut up Dray,' he laughed, getting another one from his deck and lighting it, before leaning over to light Draco's. 'Interested in doing some coke guys?'

'Er, of course we are,' said Luna. 'I can't walk when I'm this hungry and this tired unless I'm high,' she laughed. 'And I'm not allowed to eat. Too much of my belly is showing and that bitch Alecto Carrow keeps telling me to suck it up and eat tissue if I'm hungry.'

Draco touched her stomach softly and shook his head. 'I have skittles in my bag if you want some.'

She laughed. 'No thanks. Apparently I need to lay off the junk. I've gained weight.'

Blaise rose a perfectly arched eyebrow. 'I can't notice a thing. You know what they're like, they tell everyone they've gained weight just to put us off eating even more than we are now, if the fact that we're models hasn't already done so.' Draco laughed with Blaise.

'I've gained a whole three pounds and apparently that's not acceptable.' Luna huffed with a regal flick of her hair. 'I don't care though,' then she grabbed Draco and Blaise's hands and dragged them over to where there were other models engaging in illicit, indecorous activities: such as snorting coke.

The group of three gathered around a table of their own and racked lines whilst Luna told them all about another party she was planning to have in her penthouse that evening. Draco took out a twenty pound note from his wallet and rolled it up whilst nodding along to the story she told, as his attention started to wonder the higher he got.

There was someone shouting; probably one of the head directors begging everyone to stop fucking around and take the show seriously. Luna was leaning against Blaise, dazed smile on her pretty flushed face and a little bit of white surrounding her nose. Draco leant over to wipe it for her before grinning.

'Rudolph the white-nosed reindeer … had a very coked-up nose,' he sung with a gleefully high laugh as he pinched Luna's cheek. She slapped his hand away and replied with a scoff of 'Don't mess up my make up'.

'We're going on in less than twenty minutes Dray,' slurred Blaise as he wiped his nose. Just then, a stage director called Nott, accompanied by Severus Snape, appeared before the group of three.

The blond man shrugged in answer to what Blaise told him. 'That's okay,' he replied quietly before turning to give his full attention to the most annoyingly useful manager. 'Hello Sevvie.'

Severus Snape rose an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Even more so when he scanned the table and the faces of the models quickly. 'You're going on in-'

One of the stage directors finished the sentence for Severus, screaming at the top of her lungs on the opposite side of the room, 'SEVENTEEN AND A HALF MINUTES-'

'And I'll be done in half of one,' Draco told him before swallowing as he snorted the final line of coke set up for him. He wiped his nose and stretched his arms over his head. Severus couldn't even wait, as soon as Draco stood up, he grabbed his arm and dragged him over to one of the make-up tables, with several stylists and make-up artists eagerly waiting for the male model to appear.

'Hello Draco-'

'Mr Draco, lovely to see you-'

He ignored them all and sat down in the chair, looking into the mirror directly. His eyes were smaller and glistened like rubies. He spent another brief moment appraising his reflection before his head was pulled back as the stylists began combing it and a make-up artist walked around to stand between his legs and start applying concealer.

He grinned and shut his eyes as he was taken away by the soft strokes of the brush on his face.

Make-up brushes were _so_ soft.

**oOo**

'Here you go Miss,' said one of the waiters, providing Hermione with a tall flute of champagne. She smiled politely and thanked him before turning back to a slightly drunker Harry. He was only slightly tipsy with a wide grin on his face as he appraised some of the men and women walking past him. Then Karl Lagerfeld appeared on stage and the whole room quietened down almost instantly, apart from Naomi Campbell, whose voice still carried over to Harry who was a few rows behind.

'Enjoy the show,' was all Harry heard the head director and designer of Chanel say into the microphone before he left. Then the stage transformed into colours and hues of pink and yellow as flower emerged from the ground on miniature platforms, flickering between shades of pink and spinning in circles.

Strutting onto the catwalk first was an infamously beautiful, superficially innocent model named Luna Lovegood. She was tall, willowy and looked extremely adorable as she walked across the runway. Her narrow hips swung with each step and her pigtails bounced following each movement. Before she even reached the end of the runway another model came out. Her attire was similar to Luna's with a flowery, bright top and contrasting bottoms; this time trousers that were almost skin tight.

Harry watched each of the girls and his grin grew wider as the show progressed, a little less breathless now that Luna and another girl named Pansy Parkinson were off the runway. They were, after all, the most beautiful of the female models.

When the male models came on however, Harry was even more unbearably horny. There was one called Blaise Zabini who was the most stunning model Harry had ever laid eyes on. He always paused and stared when he saw him in editorials in Vogue magazine or other fashion catalogues.

The show was epic and Harry was beyond excited to see the end, knowing that it would be well worth it. Hermione was very excited too; practically frothing at the mouth each time a very attractive model walked onto the stage.

All of the models were extremely attractive ... which hypothetically meant that she should have been drenched in froth by now.

And then something happened that took Harry's breath away. Rather, someone happened that took Harry's breath-

'Draco Malfoy,' Hermione said for him.

-away.

He sucked in a deep breath. 'Shit.'

'I know. He's beautiful,' Hermione agreed in a whispered murmur. Draco Malfoy looked like he belonged on the runway and was most obviously, maybe with strong competition from Blaise, the hottest model out of all the men. Draco was gorgeous. Tall, slender, hair to die for and a wicked smile, Harry was totally entranced.

'He's fucking gorgeous.'

Hermione laughed and downed her flute. 'He is the best male model in the country. Look at those boots.' Draco was wearing chunky gold boots and Harry never thought, in his life, that gold boots would look nice; especially books with at least three inch platforms and bubble-gum pink laces, but it looked awesome. Everything about him was mesmerising.

Especially that devilish smile. It drove Harry mad and Draco hadn't even reached the end of the runway. When he did, a stream of male models also started walking on the runway but Harry couldn't focus on any of them.

He was too busy staring at Draco.

'He went to Eton,' Harry said softly. 'I remember when I first came he was in year seven with me but wasn't in my dormitory or any of my lessons for that matter. He left shortly after I joined too so I guess he just ... faded away in my memory.'

Hermione nodded as she watched the male models walk off stage and female models replaced them for their final lap, gender-segregated lap.

'I almost completely forgot that I know him.'

'I think it's because he seems so out of our world-'

Harry nodded distractedly. 'We need to find a way to speak to him-'

Hermione laughed. 'What? That's ridiculous.'

'I have to speak to him. Look at him, he belongs in my bed-'

Hermione giggled again but then hushed Harry when the male models were led back onto the runway. Everyone stood up to applaud the models and the amazing fashion director Lagerfeld, who was situated between Malfoy and Zabini and was saying a few words into the microphone.

They passed through one ear and out the other for Harry. He could only focus on Draco's smouldering eyes and puckered lips. Harry _had_ to have him.

When the show was fully over, Harry took Hermione's hand and led her backstage with him. 'Look like you belong here,' he murmured in her ear when they spotted one of the many security guards by the door to one of the main changing rooms.

Harry rose an eyebrow when the security guard stepped forward to block their way. 'Excuse me,' he said in his most pretentious, confident voice. The large man assessed the couple; their expensive clothing, Hermione's fashionable dress and shoes, her faultless, impeccably made-up face and just everything about her really. Then the security guard floundered for a second, for he had no choice but to relent, before nodding quickly and murmuring a soft 'Sorry'.

He scooted over quickly so Harry and his companion could pass through the door. _He probably thought they were models, the way that they looked being outrageously good,_ Harry thought with a smug smile.

As soon as Harry and Hermione stepped through the door, they were confronted with the images of gorgeous half-naked models running around. The room was filled with smoke despite the illicitness of smoking indoors.

'Oh,' stuttered Hermione, her neck whipping back and forth so fast, Harry was sure she must have had whiplash one hundred times over. 'Oh my!'

'What?' he asked, arm tightening around her. 'Have you found him?'

'Give me a second … yes. He's over there...' she pointed at the furthest corner from them near a window, where Draco Malfoy sat with a few other models, namely Luna and Blaise. What was most interesting about the table was that huge bag of cocaine that lay on it. It also adorned the table in miniature piles; some of these piles with rolled up notes beside them, and each mound of white directly in front of a model.

Was it expected to do such things? Or did it come with the whole model-package. Harry would have to make sure to ask.

'Fuck,' He said as he watched Draco Malfoy throw his delightful golden head back and roar with unrestrained laughter. Harry, without another word, grabbed Hermione's hand once more and dragged her over to the table until they stood before the group of models.

'Hello,' he said after an awkward second without even thinking. His eyes were glued to Draco who had not yet looked up at him.

Draco's chilling grey eyes met Harry's eventually and the dark haired man gulped. He was all at once breathless and lost for words. The other models around the table turned to look at Draco, perhaps waiting for him to take lead and give them a cue. Were they to _accept_ Harry and _greet_ him or _shun_ and _cast_ him away?

The blond model licked his pink lips as his eyes scanned Harry's body painstakingly slow. Draco Malfoy quirked a beautifully arched eyebrow up as he seemingly finished his assessment of the other man. Then he cleared his throat and in a voice that was so deliberately husky and soft, lathered in sultriness, Draco Malfoy simply must have been trying to turn Harry on, he uttered the soft greeting of 'Hello.'

'Harry Potter,' the hazel-eyed man said quietly as he gazed intently into the eyes of the international model less than a metre from him. 'And you are…?'

There was a soft chuckle, proving to be just as detrimental to Harry's health as the sultry purr: 'Like you don't already know.'


	4. First Impressions

Disclaimer; I don't own Harry Potter.

I am so sorry for the long wait. I put this story on secret-hiatus so I could crack down on revision for exams and then went to Brazil for a few weeks. I came back last week though and since then have been trying to get out the next chapter as quick as possible.

Thanks so much for all the follows, faves and reviews.

To the reviewer titled 'confused', I just wanted to say I appreciate your concrit. I don't think sexuality is quite as binary and constricting as simply being 'straight' or 'gay', I think that there's a lot more fluidity in sexuality than that. Thanks for the review.

Enjoy. _Beware of the smutty smut smut ahead._

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Four : First Impressions_

* * *

It was universal fact that the worst thing about spending the night and early hours of the morning drinking was the imminent hangover that followed such frivolous activities. Moreover, it seemed as though many different life forms contributed to the whole mess that equalled 'waking up arse over tit drunk in a fucking stranger's bed'.

These aforementioned life forms included the chirping birds outside, the noisy traffic driving up to Hyde Park Corner and of course, the other drunkies dispersed throughout the penthouse.

Harry Potter could hear singing in one drumming ear and arguing in the other thrumming one. His eardrums appeared to have sustained a lot of damage from the night spent drinking and partying. He decided that his injuries, most of which remained undetected, included partially perforated eardrums. The ringing in his head had yet to die down.

He _badly_ _wadly_ wanted to die.

Death would be an escape from this agony, right? However temporary the agony may be, Harry could hardly handle it. His bladder felt ready to rip open and burst: alas, to pee or not to pee, that was the question.

Harry tried to clear his brain so as to ascertain all of the injuries sustained. So far he had concluded that aside from a tight-as-fuck bladder, his eyes felt super-glued to the inside of his lids and worst of all (certainly in the taste department) was the whole issue that was his tongue.

The inside of his mouth tasted like a shot of whiskey blended in the latest Nutri Ninja with a few cigarettes and an ashtray. He tried to swallow but there wasn't nearly enough saliva in his mouth to swallow. Not even once.

Harry tried to clear his throat but quickly learnt that such an action actually made his mouth drier. He cringed and lulled about in a trance of self-pitying agony and desperation for approximately three minutes before he felt something touching his thigh.

Without even a mirror to look in and support the thought floating about in his head, Harry knew that both his eyebrows were raised in suspicion and confusion. Perhaps each brow represented each emotion: the left brow for confusion, since his left side was always more confused than the right, and the right brow for suspicion.

Harry felt confused because he could fear bare skin against the bare skin of his leg. Why, one might wonder, should this evoke confusion? Because the skin was pressed against his thigh, which had no reason to be bare at all. Unless he was wearing hot pants again, which he prayed to god he wasn't.

_Was he naked?_

With eyes still wedged shut, Harry blew hot (and presumably smelly) air onto where he supposed his chest was. The air felt warm.

He was naked, he decided. His means of deciding whether he was naked or not may not have made sense to anyone other than him but certainly in that moment, breathing onto his chest made the most sense in the world.

Now, Harry also felt suspicion, not because he was a highly anxious person, but because the leg that was pressed against his thigh was also bare and moving and rubbing against his leg. He moaned softly in the back of his throat, not (entirely) because he was a wanton slut but because he was surprised.

Harry threw open his eyes and-

'Dear fucking god,' he cringed, clenching the gates to his eyes shut forever and metaphorically throwing away the key. His eyes burned, like corrosive acid had been poured on them. He felt liquid ooze out of his eyes … perhaps tears from the pain of allowing his eyes to meet the blazing sunlight bursting through the windows.

He groped in the air for something to hold onto. As a rather sentient being, Harry valued 'touch' very much indeed. Besides, he wanted to make sure that the world was real. He couldn't be in so much pain and still be asleep.

Harry's hand encountered the softest fabric, lustrous and seductively soft. It was rather short however and when he tried to touch more of it, the fabric seemed attached at the root to something harder.

'Ow,' something/someone whimpered.

For the second time in the space of twenty eight seconds, he tossed open his eyes (well one eye, but the right eye as, like its brow, it was also responsible for suspicion) and flinched under the sun's light-assault.

When the blinding white sunlight lost some of its potency and Harry wasn't as scared to use the precious gift of sight as before, large emeralds were revealed to the world and staring straight into them were the...

-cool, chilled grey swirlpools of Draco Malfoy's. Eyes that made fans all across the world swoon with lust.

Harry swallowed and immediately regretted it. For one, it made his throat tighter and most importantly, the saliva which had been festering in his mouth for at least five hours tasted revolting. He wanted to gag but decided that his gagging face was not nearly as handsome as his more suave, collected one.

Though now Harry thought about it, acting suave was the least of his concerns right now.

He was naked in Draco Malfoy's bed with bad morning breath, eye-crusties still vehemently fighting to keep his eyelids bolted shut and dried dribble on the side of his face.

Harry was loath to see what his hair looked like.

**oOo**

_* Ten Hours Before *_

'How does this drinking game work?' Harry shouted over the music.

Draco Malfoy was already trashed. He was drunk, high and barely even nicotine-sated because he stubbed out his millionth cigarette and lit another one. Maybe it was a model thing. He looked very graceful whilst smoking, Harry concluded. His mouth opened in a perfect pout, lower lip slightly plumper than the top one, more moist and decidedly pinker.

'You take a shot every time you're dealt an odd number-'

'What the fuck?' cried Hermione from the other side of Harry. She had taken off her Dior dress and wore the shirt that Harry lent her. 'What kind of odds are those? That's like half the fucking numbers.'

Draco turned to look at her, eyes rolling into the back of his head at the stupidity of her question. 'I know that,' he slurred. 'S' the point of th'game.' He looked at Blaise and pointed at the deck of cards. His white-nosed friend took a card without protest and grinned when the card read 7.

More whiskey ended up on the table than in the shot glass but Draco hardly cared. 'Drink,' he said and without even waiting, he pressed the glass against Blaise's mouth and tipped it back for him.

'Jeez,' the gorgeous model hissed when he swallowed the scolding liquid. 'Tha's more than a shot-'

'Your turn Luna,' screamed Draco, throwing the cards at her. He looked quite unhinged yet, not uncomfortable. He always felt comfortable around his friends. For one, their relationship was largely codependent. Draco trusted that they saw friendship with him as an investment. Being seen with him in the streets of London, New York or Paris was extremely rewarding. Perhaps it was his huge influence that allowed him to be more of who he wanted.

It was the presence of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger that made him a little uneasy.

Harry lit a cigarette as he watched Draco pace the cavernous lounge, his own glass of whiskey clenched tightly in one fist. He didn't know what to make of Draco.

Talking on a superficial level, he clearly loved what he saw. Large silver eyes, bright white teeth, pale golden skin and light blond hair. Legs that went on for miles, arms that were just the perfect size and degree of ripped-ness and ... and everything else about the other man. His accent for one thing was a major turn on. Whilst it was inherently English and posh and refined, there were some words which had not escaped the American influence. Like "tomato".

Harry never thought that an American pronunciation of "tomato" would turn him on.

'Your turn Potter,' grumbled Draco from where he now sat between Luna and Blaise. His eyes were alight with something; maybe drunkenness, possibly the cocaine high still purging his glorious beautiful lovely-lovely-lovely body.

Harry shook his head and stared up at one of the world's most famous models. What was his answer: 'Yah.'

'Yah?'

'Part-German,' Harry joked pathetically. He shook his head and swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.

Draco grinned sluggishly and nodded. 'Right, take a card.'

Harry picked a card and waved it in Draco's face before even looking at it himself. Draco plucked the card from his hand and threw it onto the pile so it fell coordinatedly on its front to cover the number. Perhaps showing it to Draco first wasn't such a good idea... 'Drink.'

'But what number-'

'Shhh, drink,' the blond reiterated, pushing a shot glass into Harry's hands and when they remained unresponsive, he tipped the drink into Harry's mouth and proceeded to get the other man arse-over-tits drunk.

Because that's what Harry had to do right? To stay at one of the best parties he had ever been to he had to get drunk and do whatever the model of the building said.

Draco was definitely the number one model in the building, closely followed by Blaise.

The green-eyed teenager was jerked out of his never ending stream of consciousness when he felt another shot glass being pushed against his lips and saw blazing coal and shimmering silver.

**oOo**

'Hello,' the deep, sleep-soaked and rather Americanised voice of Malfoy said as he stared at the man sharing his bed.

'Are you wearing clothes?' gushed the emerald-eyed man-child. 'Fuck … er-'

'No, I'm naked.'

'Why?'

He hoped it was for the reason that he speculated but, at the same time, he didn't hope for that. Everyone appeared to either still be asleep on various surfaces of the bedroom or have gone to other rooms in hopes of privacy. But privacy was something that most certainly would not have been granted to Harry seeing as he was with Draco.

It _could be_ that Hermione hadn't seen or heard a thing, in which case Harry wouldn't mind nearly as much at the prospect of a bunch of strangers watching him have sex.

'Why?' laughed Draco as he reached over Harry (their bare chests rubbed) to get his cigarettes and lighter. 'We fucked. I thought that was one of the goals you set yourself last night.'

Harry leaned over to light the fag for him before plucking one out of Draco's deck and lighting one for himself. He was already accepting of the fact that the smell of his breath wasn't going to improve without any Colgate.

Before he had a chance to light it, Draco very deliberately pressed a hand to Harry's and leaned so close that the blazing end of his cigarette pressed flush against the end of Harry's, thus lighting it. The action was so erotic that he turned a little pink when he felt another hand on his waist.

Harry sucked in and tried desperately hard not to cough when he noticed that burning brighter than the cigarette ends were Draco's eyes, alight with laughter.

'I wish I could remember last night properly-'

Draco recoiled like he was burnt and it was only when Draco leapt away from Harry that he noticed the cigarette, still burning but now detached from the blond's mouth, on the sheets where Draco's legs had previously been lounging.

'What the fuck?' the model shouted. 'You so remember last night-'

'Not very well,' said Harry.

The blond man laughed and shook his head. 'Stop lying.'

**oOo**

Draco and Harry had been kissing under the covers for about fifteen minutes now and whilst they were no twelve year old, pubescent boys, they were certainly drunk and inebriated to the extent that Harry was struggling with the drawstring trousers his fellow fuck-buddy wore.

'I can't,' he panted against the other man's lips before plunging himself into another wet, whiskey kiss. Lips trailed down his throat to his chest and he started panting even louder. He could hear Hermione and Luna exchanging giddy conversation a few metres from him and Draco yet, he couldn't help but not care.

Especially considering how hard his dick was.

Then out of nowhere, a hand was on his dick and pulling it from the confines of his very thick and extremely protective pair of briefs. Harry all but shimmied wantonly out of them.

Draco wasted no time in pushing the green eyed teenager firmly under him and reattaching their lips.

'This feels so surreal,' puffed Harry. He slipped his hands into Draco's boxers and squeezed the malleable cheeks under his hands.

'How?' the model asked against his lips before leaving another sweet kiss.

'Because y-you're Draco M-Malfoy-'

'And you've been gagging for this all night. It's only fair-'

Harry attempted to roll them both over as gracefully as he could, just so he was on top, with all the power and oxygen. You see, whilst Draco looked very petite and thin, he was a lot heavier than what meets the eye.

It could be all the muscle.

Either way, Harry's inebriation made him feel a little like he was choking.

Draco did not let Harry roll them over.

'Stay still,' the model murmured bitingly. Then Harry shook his head at himself. Draco hadn't murmured it bitingly, he just happened to bite Harry's ear after he murmured it.

_Man he was drunk._

'What d'ya wanna do,' slurred the dark-haired teen.

'I wanna fuck.' Then after a moment Draco said quietly, 'Just not sure if I can get him up.'

'Him?'

'My cock.' He replied like it was the stupidest question in the world.

'Right. How 'bout a blowie?' Harry yawned, still massaging and squeezing the luscious flesh of Draco's loveable cheeks.

'Okay,' the other replied as he languidly stroked the dick in his hands.

Harry felt so hard but knowing all about whiskey dicks, he knew it would take a lot to get him turgid enough for sex.

He slithered down the smooth, silken sheets and finally managed to conjure up the strength to flip himself and Draco over. Though just from feeling the power of the body above his, Harry guessed that Draco merely … allowed him to flip them over.

Irrespective of that though, he could hardly believe that he lay between Malfoy's legs with a hand wrapped around a very pretty cock.

Like seriously, Harry could hardly (no pun intended) wrap his head around the fact that he was about to sleep with one of the world's most famous models. SURREAL wasn't a good enough word to describe the shit going through his head, like _was his cock big enough _and _was he a good kisser _and _was he actually as hot as he thought he was_ because let's face it, people _tend_ to think they're hotter than they actually are.

When he attached his mouth to the throbbing head of Draco's cock, he heard a choked cry of pleasure.

'Fuck tha' feels good.'

**oOo**

'You seem like the type to record every single thing we did yesterday down into that pretty little head of yours.'

'Pretty little head?' Harry laughed with a shake of said head. 'Says the guy who's paid for being pretty.'

Draco rose a thin blond eyebrow; perfectly sculpted, arched, quirked…

'Which is precisely why I know how pretty your head is.' He scrutinised the teenager sitting opposite him and was surprised by how comfortable he felt.

This could be a guy who worked for a newspaper and might sell the multi-million pound story of how Draco was an enormous druggie coke-head who liked fingers up his arse whilst being sucked off.

He could ruin Draco's life. Yet-

There he was flirting with Harry Potter on his, well Luna's, hotel bed.

'So, where do you live?' Draco asked.

'Holland Park,' Harry told him as he lit another cigarette.

Just as Draco was about to reply, Blaise entered the room they were in with Hermione following after him. They looked … giggly.

'Dray-'

'Did you fuck her?' The blond asked with a grin.

Harry turned to look at Hermione so fast he got whiplash. Her face had soured instantly.

'Excuse me?'

Draco barely looked at her.

'I'm not some object.' She replied tersely.

'Don't worry,' the blond said, ruffling her bed-head. 'I had sex with your cute friend last night. It's no biggie.'

Never in his life, all nineteen years of his life, had Harry ever seen Hermione so speechless.

One of the models from yesterday called Pansy Something approached the group of four with a nonchalant smile on her face. She had a book covered in white lines with her.

'Great,' laughed Draco. 'Breakfast.' He took the note handed to him and after a pregnant pause, the eight months pregnant kind, he presented it to Harry. 'Oh sacred cock sucker, would you like a line?'

Suddenly, the large brown eyes that belonged to Hermione felt hot as embers, burning into the side of Harry's face.

He felt every fibre of her being, telling him to say no, pleading with him to just think about it.

Yet when he looked into the beautiful grey pools of Draco's eyes he just couldn't say no.

Harry accepted the note and snorted a line. It was as though with each milligram of coke that he snorted, the memories from yesterday night flooded back, stronger and fiercer.

**oOo**

'Right there,' Draco whispered into Harry's ear, huffing and panting with each thrust. 'Oh god, j-just … f-fuck.'

Their lips met and it was merely just a battle of lazy, languid tongues and half-hearted thrusts because really, Harry was too drunk for this shit.

Only it wasn't just any shit was it?

This was such a momentous moment. One to tell the kids should he ever have any.

'Move, fuck, hurry-'

The pleading in Draco's voice, the breathlessness and the unadulterated desire that coursed through each fucking word-

It burst through every nerve in Harry's body and shocked him into the realisation that this would probably never happen again.

So then why wasn't he fucking Draco harder?

Because he was "too drunk"?

_Bullshit._

Harry hooked his arms under Draco's torso and flipped him over, knocking the breath out of the high, drunk rebel. He pulled the pale body up so Draco was on his knees and started to thrust as hard as he could into the other man.

'Fuck, fuck, oh fuck!' The model bellowed, resting his forehead on his forearms as Harry moved behind him.

It really made for a divine image; definitely Vogue-esque in Harry's opinion. Draco had a well-shaped torso; a thin little waist, a muscular back with a dimple just a few inches above his bum crack-

A bum crack which led a worthwhile fucking journey to one of the finest arses Harry had ever seen. This included arses that he had seen whilst wanking off to porn, and when one was watching porn, everything looked better by _orgasmic_ _default._

It felt ruddy awesome too.

'Oh, I'm gonna cum-'

**oOo**

**OK! Home, Celebrity News**

_Draco Malfoy Spotted With Entourage and Co_

The Chanel Haute Couture show on Friday, hosted by Karl Lagerfeld in Soho proved to be extremely controversial. Fashion icons from all corners of the world came to watch the latest courture collection on display by the face of fashion today, Lagerfeld himself.

Or so some think.

The main talk of the whole show was the man that has taken the fashion world by storm. Draco Malfoy is one of the most successful British models since Kate Moss. Who can even deny that Draco is the hottest male model in the world? Those mysterious grey eyes and plump pink lips can turn even the harshest man into a Dracula.

Spotted on Sunday morning with Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood, Pansy Parkinson and three other models leaving the Hilton Hotel and walking towards Hyde Park tells us all that we need to know. Especially considering that alongside the seven models, all of whom walked the runway at the Lagerfeld show, were two unidentified people.

One which Draco just couldn't keep his hands off. The pictures show our favourite Dray and a dark-haired guy walking a little way off from the others, sharing a cigarette and acting like they've known each other for a lot longer than their ages suggest. Is this a new boyfriend of Draco's? Maybe an old family friend or an upcoming model-

**oOo**

_TRENDING ON TWITTER:_

#ARSENALALWAYSWIN

#KATYPERRY'SHAIR

#CAITLYNJENNER

#DRACO'SNEWBAE

#WHODUNNIT

**oOo**

Harry didn't know why he never anticipated the media explosion that would've followed being photographed with Draco Malfoy. He just didn't think there would be a trending hashtag about him. He didn't think that he and Draco would on the Snapchat global story of London and he most certainly never thought his mother would call him and ask what was going on.

His phone buzzed and he looked at the screen. It was a text from Draco.

_Pick you up in ten? Let's have coffee. x_

* * *

Tell me your thoughts? Thank you

Rose xx


	5. Wish You Were Here

Sorry for the slow update. This is an extra long chapter! Enjoy and PLEASE tell me what you think!

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Five : Wish __You Were Here_

* * *

**HEAT EXCLUSIVE**

_Mystery Man Named_

In the last hour, Draco Malfoy has once again managed to stir up the Internet with pictures posted on Snapchat and Instagram with a mystery man, who can now be named:

Harry James Potter. The son of James Potter the footballing sensation? Yes. The son of Lily Potter the infamous writer? Yes. Now, what's the dish about Harry Potter? Apart from the fact that he's nineteen and the son of two English sweethearts, there's not really much about him-

**oOo**

_Snapchat Story:_

Draco is wearing blue. It's the sort of hue that matches the morning sky just after dawn has broken. Both his shirt and his trousers are of the same design, bursting colours on canvas, in this case the canvas being a soft cashmere fabric.

The colour also brings out the swirling grey in his eyes.

It looks stunning, he looks stunning, Draco is unbelievably and undeniably stunning.

'What are you planning to do today?' a teasing voice asks.

Draco Malfoy laughs with his head tossed back, thick locks of silk still managing to fall in his laughing eyes, and replies with a cheeky grin, 'Well I have a meeting with Lagerfeld and then I'm hoping you'll accompany me to dinner.'

**oOo**

There was a knock on Harry's bedroom door and his mother entered, dressed for the first time in a long time (considering that it was the afternoon) in pyjamas.

Today had been one of her "totally-me" days which she seldom got to have. She wore green face mask and had a towel wrapped around heavy tendrils of auburn.

Clasped in one hand were two champagne flutes and clutched in the other arm, a plastic tray and a bottle of French champagne. She smiled so radiantly at him, Harry's eyes hurt. He loved his mother dearly.

'Hey mum,' he yawned, covering his mouth. 'Give me a second to brush my teeth,' and he hopped out of his bed in a pair of baggy tracksuit bottoms. When Harry re-emerged from his periwinkle bathroom, Lily Potter was lounging on his bed with the mysterious tray open on her stomach.

'Is that-'

'Baklava? Of course it is.'

Harry threw himself down beside his mother and only then noticed what she had put on the television opposite the bed: _Finding Nemo._

She had not yet started the movie so only the title was laid bare on the screen with a picture of Nemo and his father. It was one of Harry's all time favourite Disney movies.

Then the real matter at hand dawned on him, the weight of which such a revelation pressed down unbearably on him, _so_ heavily he thought he might collapse.

'What is it mum?'

Lily pressed the tray of baklava into her son's hand. 'Eat. It's very good baklava, not like the last-'

Harry took one whilst simultaneously asking his mother more forcefully this time, 'What do you want to talk to me about mum?'

She laughed and waved a hand about airily, shaking her head. 'Why do you always think there is a catch? Why can I not just want to watch a great movie with my son and enjoy great Turkish deserts and beautiful French champagne.'

'Because you know those are all some of my favourite things.'

'Well the dessert and movie are for your benefit but the champagne is entirely mine-'

'Mum,' he moaned with a chuckle. 'I'm being serious.'

Lily hesitated and waited until she had poured them both some champagne before she turned to her son. 'Now, your father has raised a few concerns with me. But you know your dad. He's a major dunce and still needs to realise that just because someone might have unpleasant family, it doesn't make them unpleasant by default. He should know this already after having been best friends with your godfather for so damn long.'

'Get to the point mum,' her son replied with a raise of his eyebrows.

Lily ran a hand through his hair and chided softly, 'Your hair is getting long,' as she fingered the locks at the nape of his neck.

'Mum' Harry began to whine.

Burning emerald eyes met older, wiser ones; just as green and loving. Lily sighed. 'The Malfoy family is a difficult kind of family darling-'

'Difficult family? Mum, how old do I look to you? Say what you _really_ want to say.'

With an unimpressed quirk of her lip, Lily released her son's locks of hair and huffed. 'What's going on between you and Draco?' This time, impatient.

Harry shrugged and sipped his champagne. 'We're friends. We go out for dinner and drinks.'

'who's being coy now?' Lily whispered with a shake of her head. 'Is he your boyfriend.'

'I don't know,' Harry admitted. 'I mean we haven't really gotten that far.'

Lily nodded and poured herself a glass of champagne before filling Harry's flute. She took a while to speak. 'Have you … thought about this. He's very famous Harry. Being with him won't be easy.'

'It's early days mum.'

'And do you think that makes a difference? It just means that the tabloids are fighting to understand you quickest. They don't know much about you. Your father and I made sure of that Harry.'

'If it's any consolation, when we went to The Dorchester for dinner, we had dinner in a private room so that people weren't taking pictures of us.'

'Harry, pictures of you with Malfoy at The Dorcester are plastered all over the Internet. When you're with someone like Draco Malfoy, discretion is immediately removed from your life.'

He shrugged. 'It's not like I'm not used to it.'

'Did you meet at the Chanel show?'

He nodded and reached over to pluck the champagne from where it rested between his mother's knees, ignoring her grunt of protestation. He knew how his mother loathed alcohol for breakfast. 'Hermione and I sneaked in backstage and sat with Draco.'

Lily let a smile slip across her otherwise sternly schooled face. 'What were you guys doing?'

'Just chatting and playing a drinking game. Then we went back to their hotel penthouse and hung out there-'

Strangely enough Harry didn't think his mother would want to know anything about how Draco got him high and he proceeded to fuck his brains out that night, following morning, pretty much every single time since.

Draco had not yet taken the "dominant" role in their bedroom/bathroom activities, and whilst Harry enjoyed being on top he really did want to see what the world's most famous model was like in that position. What it would be like to have Draco pulling his hair from behind? It was getting long...

Lily swatted Harry on top of the head with a laugh. 'Stop getting drunk all the time Harry.'

'I don't get drunk all the time mummy,' he managed to say around a large smile.

'Hmmm … and what were you doing yesterday?'

'I took him to that awesome Japanese restaurant that you, father and I went to the week before last. Then we went to watch a movie in a private cinema, because Draco is able to afford such ridiculous things. Besides, it's fine to sometimes get drunk with friends, especially at my age.' He swallowed the rest of his champagne in a rather large gulp.

His mother was nodding to herself, so gently that she barely seemed to register herself doing as such. Slowly, with each movement, golden red curls began to loosen from their towelled shackles, tumbling to cradle her soft ivory face and bring out the blooming blossom blush on her cheeks.

_Harry knew that blossom blush._

'Mum, what are you thinking?' his voice taking on the characteristic Potter whine.

'You're not really friends though, are you?'

'What do you mean by that?'

'It's impolite to answer a question with another question,' Lily told him sternly, chin tilted up as though preparing herself for a battle.

Harry shrugged and poured himself some more champagne. If his mother was keen on having such a conversation with him at that moment then Harry would certainly depart on the _tinkering journey to tipsiness_.

'Well, I'm not entirely sure mum. We've only known each other a short while.'

Lily stroked his hair and murmured under her breath, 'Be careful. You don't want to get hurt again-'

'Mum,' Harry almost shouted in alarm. _How dare she even_... His voice turned cold. 'Cho was nine months ago. I'm fine now. We're friends. That's it-' and yet precisely at that moment, so much so that it was comical and clearly a sign of divine intervention, Harry's phone started to ring.

With his iPhone flashing bright lights, the screen was covered with the pouting face of Draco, insanely beautiful and a natural-born-poser.

Harry leapt gracefully out of the bed, picking up the phone and shuffling into the bathroom, but not before his mother heard him say softly into the phone, 'Hey Dray.'

Lily almost laughed at the ridiculousness of her son. he was clearly ever so smitten. If only he knew what he was getting into. A Malfoy.

A supermodel.

A super-modelling-fucking-Malfoy.

**oOo**

Lily Potter was an enviable person. When she had a mission, nothing stopped her from pursuing it. Largely why she was on her way to employ her husband for help. Harry was being particularly secretive about his relationship or lack of with the Malfoy model.

Lily entered the kitchen where sure enough her husband James was being made pancakes by- '_Remus_!' Lily cried, hurrying over to embrace her dear friend. 'Oh, it's lovely to see you. How have you been?'

'I'm good thanks.'

'Haven't seen you in a while. How's Teddy and Dora?'

'Dpra's good and Ted's doing well too. We took him to a new boarding school in NYC because he did end up getting kicked out from the one in Chicago..'

'What's it like for him?'

Remus shrugged as he flipped a pancake. 'He's enjoying the freedom there. He claims it's a lot more liberal than the other school but I know that's code for some other mischievous and clandestine activities.'

The laughter that soon ensued sounded very much like that of a guilty child. James's head peeped up from the newspaper he had his his face behind.

'What James?'

'I may have sent him a handbook on how to pick up a potential love interest.'

'James,' shouted Remus. 'I don't want to think of my fifteen year old son having sex!'

'Why? You were sure doing it at that age,' and Remus really couldn't help but slap him on the back of the head in indignation.

'Filthy hypocrite.'

'Speaking of another child who has been having loads of sex, I read a ridiculous article online about Harry-'

James's expression suddenly soured.

'With that Malfoy boy.'

_Engraved bitterness in each word, syllable, breath…_

Lily ran a hand through her husband's birds nest of a head. 'Don't be childish James,' but she was interrupted by the cackling laugh of Remus's.

'If only you got to hear what Sirius said on the phone.' Remus commented. 'He really hates his family.'

She shrugged and turned to the cupboards to get out the cutlery for her friend's delectable pancakes.

'Am I the only one to think that we shouldn't judge a boy who, I might add, is a completely separate person to his family. I mean come on, he's been making his own money for over eight years.'

James shrugged. 'His dad is a prick though. Surely you remember when you first met him at that penthouse party we went to?'

Lily shook her head. 'I was too busy falling in love with you that night.' James was just about to respond with a comment when he was interrupted by the sound of his son's voice.

'Okay, speak to you later … right, miss you too,' and then Harry pocketed his phone as he walked into the kitchen.

His hair was in a lopsidedly crafted bun, so effortless, innocent almost in its creation, so that Harry could press the phone closer to his ear and hear each panting breath of Malfoy's.

He had a huge crush and was entirely helpless to its overpowering influence.

It took Harry a long moment to snap out of the _smouldering_ cloud of crush when he noticed the extra figure standing in the kitchen and serving the loveliest pancakes.

'Uncle Remus,' he cried with a wide smile, walking around his embrace his father's best friend. 'It's lovely to see you.'

'And you,' Remus replied, still standing a few inches taller than his nephew and resting his chin on the top of his head as he returned the vigorous hug.

'How's Teddy? Dora?'

The rest of the bottle of champagne that Lily had from earlier was shared whilst Remus caught himself up with the Potter family. It liberated the conversation just that bit more and Harry got to hear all the different profanities his godfather uttered upon news of his new love interest.

**oOo**

Draco pulled up outside his mother and father's home in Russell Square. He had not yet been photographed but knowing the tabloids and their obsession with him, Draco wouldn't be surprised if they had photographers monitoring his parents' manor.

'Th-that w-w-will be-'

'Look,' Draco said. 'I don't have cash on me but I can tell that you know who I am. So here's my watch,' he handed over the Rolex that Snape got him. 'You can sell this for quite a bit.'

'B-but s-s-sir,'

'Bye,' Draco swiftly got out of the cab and slammed the door. He hurried up the steps and knocked on the door quickly.

Like magic it swung open instantly.

'Draco, darling!' Narcissa Black cried, pulling her son through the door and kissing him on the jaw, the only part of his face that she could reach.

'Mother,' he said with a wry smile. 'I'm so happy to see you.'

'You too dear! You should have sent us a text, we would have picked you up.'

Draco shook his head as he followed his mother to the drawing room. 'It's no bother.' He told her.

'Dobby,' his mother said when they entered the drawing room. There stood the family butler, Mr Dobby. No one quite knew why he was called Dobby, just that he answered to that better than he answered to his real name, which Draco was yet to know, after _all these years._

'Master Draco!' The butler cried, rushing forward to eagerly shake Draco's hand. 'It is lovely to see you again sir.'

'Hello Dobby. Have you faired well?'

'Very well thank you. You yourself sir? How is you?'

Draco was just about to respond when his mother snapped rather impatiently, 'Can you get me and Draco tea. The brewed one, no kettle nonsense.'

'Yes Mistress,' the butler said before hurrying out of the room.

'God, sometimes I can't stand his broken English.' Draco wanted to correct her that his English had not been very broken, far from what it was like during his childhood but he let her go on. Sometimes energy was worth more than his mother. 'Anyway Draco darling, what is this your father and I are hearing about you and that Potter son.' She pushed him down to sit on the sofa and sat beside him, her hand resting on his knee and her eyes boring into the side of his face.

Then so quietly she said, 'You know we have an image to uphold.'

'Mother,' Draco laughed humourlessly. 'I am more than capable of maintaining my image, especially with such high social standing.'

'And yet I see, plastered over The Sun and the Daily Mail that you're in a relationship, not only with another man but with a Potter,' she huffed. 'Whilst I'm becoming accustomed to your homosexual relations with other models, I am not proud to know that you are dabbling with a Potter, the godson of my godforsaken cousin.'

Draco tilted his head. This was news to him. 'Really?'

'Yes. Your uncle Sirius is best friends with James and Lily Potter. Now, to make matters worse your father is disappointed in your choice of a partner. What happened to that Versace model you were seeing?'

Her son's face soured and his jaw slackened for a brief moment. 'It is none of your concern mother.'

She leapt up off the plush sofa she sat on to tower over her son. Even sitting down her son was still so tall and slender.

'It becomes my concern when I hardly ever get to see my son and the scraps of intimate knowledge about him come from the Internet or from tabloids. Dray, I'm not a stranger. I'm your mother.'

He deliberated for a moment then said very very slowly, 'His name is Harry by the way,' Dobby hurried in with a teapot, teacups and a small jar of sugar resting on a silver tray. Draco continued on, 'So stop with calling him Potter.'

Dobby poured them their lovely tea.

**oOo**

'Hermione,' Harry said as soon as she picked up. 'Where the hell are you?'

'Still getting ready. Sorry that I have makeup to do, clothes to pick out, work to organise so I'm not freaking out when we meet up, fish to feed and a kitty to pet-'

'Right, well, thanks for telling me your whole schedule for today.' Harry told her with a shake of his head. 'Hurry up please. I'm tired of waiting.'

'I think I'll take another hour, no more than two-'

'Two hours? Hermione! I've already been waiting for so long. It's just dinner, throw on anything.'

He could almost hear Hermione roll her eyes. 'Throw on anything? You do remember the horrible picture of us in Russell Square,' she started laughing, 'where I had my hair in bunches and we were eating those messy donuts and reading books.'

'You were reading books,' Harry corrected.

'Oh yeah.' Hermione retorted. 'How could I forget? You and Draco were sending dirty texts to one another.'

The dark-haired man chuckled. 'Not really. I was speaking to him about tattoos. He wants to get one but his contract bans him from it.'

'He can always get a tattoo on his cock-'

'Hermione!' Harry roared with a laugh. 'So what should I do?'

'Why not meet up with your new boyfriend whilst you're waiting for me,' her words distorted with the food he could hear her chewing.

Harry shrugged despite the fact that she couldn't see him. 'Yeah, maybe.'

'Well, I'll speak to you later. Gonna quickly finish this sandwich and then start my work. Love youuuuu-'

'You too.' Harry hung up and threw himself onto his bed. Life was extremely surreal. Just the other day he had been sent a picture by his mother of him and Hermione taking a walk in Russell Square, zoomed-in images of the hickeys on his neck.

He touched then tentatively and smiled fondly at the memory of Draco sucking his neck and later, his cock and balls.

Like clockwork, Harry's phone started to ring. He was smiling before he saw the caller ID.

'Hello Dray,' Harry said in a low voice on the phone.

'Hey baby,' Draco was calling over loud music. 'Where are you?'

'Baby, huh?' Harry laughed, unconsciously twirling a long tendril of hair around his finger and not even noticing. 'When did I become baby?'

'I'm older than you. You will always be baby.' Draco chuckled, his voice drowning under the music and laughter around him. 'Where are you?'

'At home. What about you?' Softer voice.

'At Luna's with some friends.'

'Ah, I understand now. I'm sure that's Pink Floyd I can hear in the background. Best music to get stoned to. And it's 'Wish You Were Here'? You're getting more cliché by the second.'

'So … so you think you can tell, heaven from hell,' Draco sung into the phone, a low dulcet chuckle following the iconic lyric. 'Come over.'

'I can't. If I come I don't think I'll end up going out with Hermione. Why don't you come over here?'

'And leave these lot for you?'

Harry bit his lip. 'Yeah, if you could. You could come 'round to mine, watch a movie...'

'I have a lot of people around mine Harry.'

'Well, if you're not planning on fucking any of them then I really see no point in staying.' His voice got lower, more sultry, more teasing! 'Not when I'm here, all alone in this big hot bed, tense as fuck because I haven't seen you for days-'

'Hours-' Draco corrected.

Harry laughed into the phone. 'Feels like days.'

'Oh yeah? To what part of you?'

Harry fell back onto the bed and ran a hand up his exposed stomach, with a smattering of hairs around his belly-button and a scar, about an inch long, under his left nipple. 'To my lips and hands and...'

'And...'

'And my cock. It misses you and your warm wet mouth and your tight hot arse,' then Harry drifted off. 'Most importantly though...'

'Huh,' he huffed.

'I miss your cock.'

Harry could practically hear Draco grinning on the other line. 'I miss your cock too.'

'Wish you were here ... right now so I could...'

Draco pressed him further. 'So you could what?'

'Fuck you.'

There was a slight pause and Harry could hear more laughter, shrill and boisterous, on the other line. He couldn't help but hope that...

'Alright, give me like half an hour. And text me your exact address, I'll get a cab.'

'See you soon.' Harry hung up, put his phone in the charger after he text the address to Draco, and turned on his PlayStation. He would play for a bit, just until Draco got home.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was completely winning his mission and-

His phone started to ring, lit up with that gorgeous picture of such a gorgeous young man. His beauty was undeniable and Harry was still a little awed to be so close to someone so precious.

'Hello,'

'I'm outside. Please hurry.'

'Be down in two secs,' Harry quickly said into the phone before he tossed it somewhere behind him, pulled his top back on (playing competitively made him sweaty) and hopped out of his room and down the long, grand staircase.

He could see Draco's silhouette in the window, hair ruffled and collar obnoxiously dishevelled. Harry threw open the door. 'Draco.' He grinned, accepting the light kiss placed on his lips. Just as he was starting to get into the kiss, Draco broke away and stuck a middle finger up at … someone or something Harry couldn't quite see.

'I think they tap my phone or something,' he said as he stepped into the house, closing the door behind him and turning to reward Harry with his radiance. 'How did they know I was even here?'

'They probably just sniff out for the smell of loads of money or Bleu de Chanel.'

'I was supposed to model for Bleu de Chanel perfume actually,' Draco said as he passed his jacket to Harry. ' I decided not to because Luna's birthday was coming up.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'What had you done for her birthday?'

'Well,' explained Draco as he ran a hand through his hair and looked in the mirror. 'It was her eighteenth so we rented out a yacht, got mega drunk and ended up staying on it for three weeks. Lagerfeld got that hot guy to do the ad and I enjoyed the three week party on the yacht.' They laughed together and it was this sound that caused Harry's pretty mother to leave the confines of the kitchen.

Her heels clacked against the wooden floor as she called out, 'Is Hermione finally here?' then she froze in front of Draco and her son and ducked her head. Even though she wore her heeled slippers, because they were the hottest Ralph Lauren slippers ever, Lily was dressed in her pyjamas (twice in one week?!) and had a pink face mask on.

'Hello,' Draco said, extending a hand to Harry's mother and grinning at her. 'Lovely to meet you. I'm-'

'I know,' Lily beamed back, shaking his hand enthusiastically. 'I do pay attention to Vogue sometimes,' and they laughed.

Harry grimaced. He had really hoped he could get Draco up the stairs without alerting his mother to the model's presence. 'Draco, this is my mother.'

She smiled at the younger man. 'I'm L-'

'I also know who you are Mrs Potter,' the blond said with a sly smile. 'I will never forget the look of pure pride on Lagerfeld's face when you walked the red carpet in his iconic Chanel vintage suit the year before last.'

She stared at the young handsome man, enchanted by him and his charisma. 'You must stay to eat!'

'I'm going out to dinner with 'Mione mum, maybe another time.' Harry grabbed his friend's hand and started tugging him up the huge staircase. 'We'll be in my room, playing Fifa or something. Catch you later.'

They disappeared.

'Catch you later?' Draco exclaimed with a giggle. 'If I ever dared to say such a thing to my mother, well I expect I'd be hung, drawn and quartered.' They walked past a huge portrait of cute, chubby, baby Harry.

Draco froze. The portrait really was massive. Come to think of it, Harry wondered why on earth it was so large, easily taller than both men and wider than if there had been ten of them standing side to side. Harry was crawling in the picture, dressed in the most adorable elf costume. He had no teeth in the picture, yet beamed so effulgently it left them almost blinded. Harry's eyes, emerald to the twinkle, showed flicks of pinks and blues in the portrait version. Like pools of molten multi-coloured lava. Pink too, were his lovely round cheeks, tinted with rosy youth and colour.

'That's a lovely picture,' said Draco. 'Take a snap of this for me,' and he stood next to the large portrait, gesturing for Harry to move back with his phone.

'What's your pin?'

'One-Four-Seven-Four.'

'With flash?'

'Why not,' Draco turned to pose, a side angle of him leaning forward as if to kiss baby Harry.

'This is awesome, you look tiny next to baby-me,'

'How old were you in the picture?' Draco asked as he added filters and posted the picture onto his Snapchat Story.

'About nine months old, maybe a little younger.'

They entered Harry's large bedroom, where the blinds were shut and the bedsheets were bedraggled and the carpet cluttered with rubbish. Harry hadn't noticed until then how messy his room was.

'Sorry about the mess-'

The blond shook his head and grabbed onto the other man's shoulder, steering him towards the bed. 'Don't worry about it,' they kissed and Harry bit the lip in his mouth. 'Mess is sometimes fun,' they kissed again and fell onto the bed together, barely missing banging heads. 'I'd be a huge slob if it weren't for room service and my family butler.'

Harry started taking Draco's clothes off as fast as he could, struggling to breathe when Draco reciprocated. 'Oh,' he panted when a hand was pushed past into his trousers. He clenched his eyes shut and lifted his arms when his shirt was pulled over his head.

'Your mother is nice by the way,' said the blond, licking and nipping Harry's collarbone as he worked his trousers open.

'Don't talk about my mum, please,' he panted.

'You would not want to meet my mother. She's very controlling,' said Draco. 'Also has a nasty temper and hates broken English.'

'I want to meet your mum, I want to know what strong person dared to raise you.'

They laughed into each others mouths.

'Come 'ere,' he huffed, pulling Draco by the collar of his top and pressing their lips urgently together, sucking on his tongue and rutting shamelessly against the other man.

'Fuck me,' Draco whispered into his ear, drawing Harry's earlobe into his mouth and wrapping it in wet warmth.

He could hardly concentrate. 'Fuck you?'

Draco nodded, grey eyes swirling with lust and heat and desire. 'Fuck me-'

'Definitely,' and he slid down Draco's body, pulling his trousers and underwear down with the descent. The answering soft smack of Draco's cock hitting his stomach was more than satisfying.

He had a _very pretty_ cock, Harry thought. Nice and smooth with adorable blond pubes covering the base and his balls. He licked a stripe up the underside and grinned against the shaft when Draco grabbed his hair and tugged.

'Pulling my hair is mean,'

'Fucking teasing me,' gasped the blond, 'is even more mean. Suck already.' Silver eyes rolled back into huge sockets and Draco choked on his breath when Harry diligently followed his command. They did not even notice Harry's phone on the floor ringing, Hermione's winking face flashing on the screen.

'Oh fuck Harry.'

There was a ghost of a laugh against Draco's cock and a murmur of, 'Keep it down.'

* * *

Please review! Tell me if you think Draco is as hot as I think (I rate Draco 100.7/100)

Thanks for reading xx


	6. Friends With Benefits

Has anyone got any good Drarry fics they could recommend to me? I'm ashamed to say that I haven't read nearly as many as I would like to.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Six : Friends With Benefits_

* * *

Severus Snape sat beside his favourite model in the world, though definitely the most infuriating, whilst they flicked through the pictures of sketches from Chanel. What Sev had always liked about Chanel was how diligent and thorough they were in their proposals, sending the most pretty pictures of potential outfits with all the angles that mattered to Draco.

'I do like this one,' said Draco slowly, taking the picture in his manager's hand and scrutinising it. 'What's the material of the jacket?'

'Hmmm,' Sev murmured. 'Looks like cashmere.'

'And the grey velvet turtle neck is gorgeous too.' A smile flashed across Draco's face. 'This is a pretty stunning collection Sev. Maybe you should tell them that I'm interested and to send more pictures, maybe some sample fabrics.'

The dark-haired man laughed, low rumble in his voice. 'That will make them happy. Good idea!'

'It's the least they can do considering the prices I'm charging Karl. Practically half of what I've charged the others-'

'Maybe because he kick-started your career Dray.'

'Whatever,' the model murmured, appraising the turtle neck for a second time. 'I really like this though. It will bring out my eyes.'

'Narcissism to the side, what do you think overall then? Shall I call Lagerfeld and tell him Iit's a definite yes or...'

'Tell him yes and tell him this outfit is mine.'

**oOo**

'Harry,' Draco moaned as they lay on the large bed in Draco's penthouse.

'Hmmm,' the dark-haired man hummed, tracing Draco's bare peachy skin beneath his long dexterous fingers. They lazed about in a beautiful haze of post-coital bliss, Draco still shaking from one of the best blow jobs he had ever been given in his life, including the time two models sucked him off simultaneously.

Harry was _something_ else.

'We should do something-'

'Like what-'

'I was just getting to that,' Draco whispered, turning over onto his side to face Harry. He had a dopey love struck expression on his face, silver eyes glowing and bruised scarlet lips flush with colour and emotion. Draco was the image of a thoroughly used, fucked, pretty little model-

And as a result, Harry was totally enamoured.

'Do continue then,' he said as his wandering fingers moved to pitter patter across Dray's thighs and waist.

'I want to take you on a holiday with me. The both of us for a week in Brazil, it would be perfect.' Draco leant forward and brushed his nose against Harry's before kissing him softly and tenderly. 'We could relax on the beach, explore the rainforest and just generally have fuck loads of fun.'

Harry was nodding eagerly, desperate to keep Draco's eyes in view. 'I've never been to Brazil before-'

'I have and it's fucking amazing. Really beautiful country and people are a lot more body-positive over there than people are here or in the States. And it's important to be body-positive when modelling is so repressive. The weather is also pretty much amazing all year around.'

Harry nodded softly to himself. He really did like the sound of that. Maybe an escape from London was what he needed for a bit.

'So will you come with me?' Draco asked him very slowly, rolling on top of him and pressing his body to Harry's, their cocks touching and their chests pressed together. Draco kissed his bottom lip, then his chin, his throat. He could feel the unmistakeable prodding of Harry's newly awoken erection. He palmed Harry, kissing the other man's chest now, raven hair stark against the pale white of his chest, rosy pink nipples inviting in their pertness, so Draco leant forward to kiss and suck each nipple.

Harry's piercing emerald eyes were closed tightly and he was breathing hard.

'You know, we could go for walks on naked beaches, starkers and sporting hot tans-' He was at Harry's cock now, the lean member throbbing and oozing. Draco leant forward to lick across the head. He looked up to meet those emerald eyes, now open and piercing into Draco's soul...

'What do you think Harry?'

The other man nodded quickly, his hand fluttering over Draco's cheek before nestling itself in Draco's silvery blond hair. 'Yeah,' he huffed, licking parched lips, ''course I will.'

Draco lathered kisses across his shaft, nipping and sucking at his balls before moving back up to swallow his cock. When Harry was about to come and shoot his seed down that talented throat, Draco took his shaft into his hand and leant up to kiss Harry's pliable lips, moulding his own against them. Stuttery breath fanned across Draco's face when Harry was coming and it made him even harder when Harry ordered him to suck the seed off his cock.

**oOo**

The dining room in the Potter manor was much larger than any other in the house, considering that it was a room where only three people dined. The ceiling emulated a cavernous atmosphere, where voices echoed and everything seemed too far away.

Harry sat at the table with his mother, father and for the first time in what felt like months, his godfather Sirius Black.

Sirius Black was everything his name suggested and even more; rebellious, a contradiction like the first name, the brightest star in the night's sky, and his surname which was as dark as colours came. Another fact about Sirius Black was that he was filthy rich, what came with being from a rich aristocratic family.

He sat beside James on the table, Lily opposite him and Harry on the other side.

'-barely eaten all day-'

'Because...' Laughed James. 'Surely there's a reason? You never won't eat if it's your choice.'

'You're a genius Jamie. I haven't eaten because Rose was trying to kick me out, wasn't she?'

'What have you done now?'

The rich aristocrat laughed radiantly, head tossed back with a careless arrogance that money and influence had certainly bought him. 'I accidentally called her by another name when she was sucking me off.'

Lily tried to swat him with her handkerchief and Sirius laughed again. 'We were both drunk, it was completely accidental.' James and Harry couldn't stop giggling behind their hands, looking back and forth between Lily and Sirius who were now engaged in an argument.

'I don't know why she's with you sometimes.' The red-head told him venomously, shaking her head at her best friend and turning to her husband for some support.

'Maybe because I knocked her up a few years back and it left her with attachment issues, I don't know,' Sirius said almost bitterly. 'I'm joking, that's horrible of me to say. I really do love her. Just that drinks and blow jobs don't go down too well with me.'

'Could we stop talking about this around the dinner table?' Lily asked exasperatedly.

'Yes, let's. So my dear godson, how is your romance life?'

Harry suddenly turned pink, giving all his attention to the glass of wine in his hand. 'Nothing special.'

'Apart from the fact that he's utterly _smitten_ by Draco Malfoy-' grinned Lily, turning her smile to her son.

Suddenly, Harry's godfather did not look anywhere near as excited as he did before. 'Oh yes, I forgot about that. You're still seeing him then?'

'Yeah I sort of am.'

'And how's it going?'

Harry shrugged, refusing to look up and meet his godfather's eyes. 'Alright I guess.'

'Taken you home yet to meet Cissy and her bastard husband yet?'

'Not really-'

'Not really? You would be sure to remember _Hazzy_ that I'm your godfather, I know when you're lying-'

Harry let out a puff of air at the sound of his baby nickname. His eyes narrowed and were, for a flittering moment, like the emerald slit eyes of a snake. 'Uncle, I'm not lying so there's no need to bring stupid nicknames back to life. What I meant was that whilst I have been to his parents' home, it hasn't been to meet them.'

That silenced Sirius for a moment. Then, his uncle opened his mouth and did the complete opposite of what Harry expected, anticipated, craved. He started laughing.

'That's what it's all about then?' Sirius reached over for a high-five. Harry gave one without even knowing why.

'Errrr-'

'He is fucking gorgeous as well, got the looks from my side of the family.' Sirius chuckled, tossing the locks of ebony that especially clung tight to his cheeks and jaw, out of his face. Then that radiant smile was back as his godfather looked off into the distance, stuck in memories. 'I remember when I went out with a guy,' then he looked at James. 'Remember Jamie? Second Year of University and that guy hit on me in the Hogshead Bar.'

'I haven't heard about this,' Lily laughed, putting her knife and fork down to give all her attention to her friend.

'Right,' said Sirius, pouring himself another glass of wine and smiling nostalgically. 'I'm about twenty years old, at a bar with Jamie, getting so fucking wasted that I'm ridiculous. A guy hits on me because he thinks I'm really hot and assumes I'm gay … something about the hair and the tight jeans I wore. We danced and made out, next thing you know we're at mine having a crazy sex marathon.'

Lily lets out a radiant chuckle. 'Really?'

'Yep. Now, tell me more about Draco then.'

'There's not much to tell,' Harry replied sternly.

Sirius grinned wolfishly, eyes blazing. 'Well, you simply must invite him around for dinner. Introduce him to the family properly.'

'He's met mum,' moaned the young man, looking from his godfather to his mother before his eyes, stolen from her, rested on his father. Harry bit his lip.

'But it would be nice to formally meet him, not when I'm lazing about in the house on my day off.'

'I'll think about it,' Harry said.

'Great, call him tonight and arrange-;'

'I didn't say yes, I said I'll think about it.' Harry's tone, never unkind or disrespectful, was still stern enough to mark the conversation over for now.

Sirius fixed his godson with a stern look but nodded nonetheless, pouring himself another glass of wine.

**oOo**

'So you don't know what you are yet?' asked Hermione as she neatly reapplied her lipstick.

Harry shrugged. 'Well no, not really. We haven't spoken about it really. Haven't even seen each other for a few days-'

'How many?'

'Three. I mean we have spoken a little and he did send me a cute picture last night of the new Chanel line that he's walking for.'

Hermione turned around slowly. They were in her bedroom, her three cats meandering around between their feet, over their laps and across their legs. He had been watching Hermione, for the last twenty minutes maybe, try on different lipsticks from the already mountainous collection she had.

'Just ask him then Harry.'

The dark-haired man buried his face in Hermione's pillows and moaned. 'But I don't want to appear desperate.'

'He's Draco Malfoy, you sort of have to-'

Harry scoffed. 'No I don't. And if my memory serves me correctly, he's the more desperate of the two of us.'

She rolled her large chocolate-brown eyes and then smirked at him. 'Glad to hear that. But really Harry, you need to make the move already.' She stood up, dressed only in her nightie, her right breast sneaking out from the silk folds for a moment. Harry grinned in response and Hermione rolled her eyes again, this time pouting her lips too.

'Imagine,' she continued, 'what it would be like to have Draco as a boyfriend? Random holidays whenever you want, crazy parties every other weekend and...' She paused and then looked carefully at Harry, her head tilting to scrutinise him. 'And you know, it'll be a good way for you to _move on_.'

Harry stood up, stretching his long arms above his head before coming to a halt in front of his best friend. 'I'm already over her-'

'Then why don't you ask Draco to be your boyfriend?'

The dark-haired man shrugged, plucking a cigarette from within the folds of his jacket and sticking it between his lips. 'Because friends with benefits is fine by me.'

* * *

I kind of don't want to have Ron in the story and I'm thinking of maybe pairing Hermione up with someone else... what do you guys think?

Hope you've enjoyed! Please do leave a review :3 xxx


	7. Catching Feelings

A/N: hiya fellow fanficcers. Hope you are all well. Sorry for the long wait but to apologise I've written a chapter that I think_ (pray)_ you will enjoy. Don't forget to please **please** tell me what you think.

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Seven : Catching Feelings _

* * *

Draco Malfoy was throwing one of the most decadent parties that he had ever thrown in his short life; including his elaborately planned first birthday and the esteemed eighteenth. Wha made this yacht party entirely special and unique though was the single fact that he was throwing the party with his boyfriend of three months. Harry Potter.

_The first of many,_ he hoped.

Draco stood in a striking Chanel suit, blue like the shade his swirling grey eyes sometimes shifted to. Besides him stood one of the only people that could rival his beauty. He shifted closer to Harry's side, running his nose across Harry's sharp cheekbone and kissing him.

'So, as I was saying,' muttered Dean Thomas drunkenly, 'I decided I don't want to jump back into another contract, I'm quite enjoying the freedom without having the management team on my back.' He downed his flute of champagne, tossed it overboard without another thought and turned to locate the next waiter and the next flute.

'How about not picking up when they call?' Harry questioned, sipping his drink.

Draco grinned and said simultaneously with Dean: 'Then they come to your house.'

'Sometimes they cut off your phone bill, your credit card, your tabs at your local bars and clubs…' Draco continued, facing his boyfriend and smiling just at the sight of Harry's glowing red cheeks and effulgent emerald eyes, even more accentuated by the sharp dark cut of his suit blazer. As discreetly as he could, Draco leant forwards to run his tongue down Harry's throat, marking the skin with a trail.

'Then you realise how tied up your life is with these arseholes and this system and you take an unlimited hiatus.'

'Hmmm, it does kind of suck.'

Draco scoffs just as Dean quickly replies in something resembling a mock-snarky tone that 'Remember that it helps when you're Draco Malfoy.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Deanie, Harry and I have to go and run a few errands but we will see you soon. Enjoy the drinks and avoid the corner over there, Goyle is really drunk and probably a little high.'

He quickly whisked them away before Dean could protest and as soon as they were alone, they were pressing against each other like it had been weeks, _months _even. Harry pulled away after a moment and rested his forehead against Draco's.

'What's wrong,' the dark haired man asked, cradling Draco's head and kissing his blond hair.

'Nothing! You just' _kiss,_ 'look so good,' _another kiss,_ 'and I'm so horny' _a taunting lick _'can't restrain myself-' he left more bruising kisses on Harry's cheeks and lips, leaving the darker-haired man feeling like he had all too quickly been swept up into the most mindblowing storm

'Well you'll sort of have to,' he panted when he got his bloody breath back. 'the photographers will go berserk otherwise.' Yet Harry did not push his boyfriend away when he laced his arms around his waist and started fearlessly snogging him.

It was fierce and aggressive but still remained to be every single thing that Harry wanted from his boyfriend. Just when he was opening up to the idea idea of perhaps engaging in a quick frot, Draco broke the kiss.

'After' the impatient model all but growled. He loosened his arms but still kept Harry close to him.

'Afterwards, I'm going to fuck you so hard Dray, you're gonna-'

The sound of dainty feet stepping in heels on the marble ground cut Harry off, both men turning in anticipation to see who it could possibly be. Then the young woman said slowly and in jest, 'Am I interrupting something?'

Draco looked at Luna and held up a finger to silence her. 'So hard I'll what?' He asked softly.

Harry must have muttered something so silly or dirty, Luna thought impatiently when Draco started giggling.

'Really?'

'Truly.'

'Yes Lunes,' Draco asked; turning to face her with cheeks slightly pinker than they had been before.

She was smiling at the pair, her crystal eyes almost burning into them. She looks utterly radiant in her pale pink dress with the cutest little Jimmy Choo sandals.

'Just wanted to ask what's up with Goyle? There are photographers here and he's dancing wildly with a white fucking nose'

'Fucking idiot,' Draco quickly pushed past Harry and Luna, running onto the main deck of the yacht and scanning the crowd for Goyle. When he located Gregory Goyle, Draco was torn between laughing and screaming. The man looked out of his mind, so clearly intoxicated and completely high as fuck that, whilst Draco thought it humourous, he turned angry quite quickly

Goyle was dancing wildly and had already removed his blazer and dress shirt, probably because he was burning up a terrible heat. It was ridiculous how powdered his nose was too.

Draco grabbed him by the arm when he was close enough and began to drag the slightly taller, much thicker man all the way until they were inside Draco's private quarters. 'Sit the fuck down,' Draco hissed when it was just the two of them, safe from prying eyes and ears.

'Jus' having fun,' mumbled Goyle, jittery and still lurching to the invisible music in his head.

'Well you're not allowed out any fucking more and if you so much as touch any fucking more coke I'll get you tossed overboard, got it?' The stressed model ran a hand through his hair and then sagged. 'You can't be obvious Greg and you've just practically told all the tabloid leechers here that this is a party for druggies.'

Goyle stood up suddenly and almost fell over again. 'Whaaa-'

'Shut up and sit down Goyle, I'm not fucking joking around. I'm not having this shit chase me up again. Look, they'll be gone in an hour or two and then you can come back out and all your drugs for tonight are on me.'

Goyle was still staring intently at Draco as if trying to decipher exactly what on earth he was on about. Before he could even answer the door was slammed and locked. Goyle was left alone.

* * *

**OoO**

* * *

**HEAT EXCLUSIVE**

_DRARRY'S Wild Boat Party_

Top model Draco Malfoy and his cute stud Harry Potter threw one of the hottest parties this year has seen. Pretty much every huge name in the modelling industry was there, including Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas and Blaise Zabini; the latter being shown in the photograph at the bottom kissing Hermione Granger (friend of Harry's). This party is rumoured to have cost over £220,000, especially considering the yacht's destination near the Canary Islands as well as the four-day running length of the party. Draco was certainly spotted in varying degrees of undress with bright red hickeys all over his body. Dray is also rumoured to have had guests such as Harry Styles attend for a few hours—

* * *

**OoO**

* * *

_Snapchat Story :_

'Hold this for me,' Draco slurred in the video, dressed in a pair of short shorts and with a bandana holding his long silvery blond hair back. He handed a flute of champagne to Harry who was sat on the floor, holding the iPhonr at Draco.

It was the third day of the yacht party and not even close to finishing, though the attendees were gradually getting more and more exhausted over the span of the party.

'Go on then, show us how it's done'

there was cheering and it made Draco laugh radiantly up at the sunset sky, bursting mango oranges and papaya pinks. He was the _happiest_ he had been for quite a long time.

'This is how you walk in heels people,' he managed to say around his huge Cheshire grin. Then he composed himself and he strutted off away from his lover and his friends, walking flawlessly in the seven inch heels and showing off just about the most perfect legs. There were cheers and clapping amidst Draco's gorgeous laughter.

Harry switched the camera so his face was on screen now. He was laughing wildly with his hair tossed back. 'Jesus, that is how it's done…'

* * *

**OoO**

* * *

(Extract from b_log-of-gossip, third most followed tumblr blog)_

_Hermione was posing in about ten of her Instagram pictures with none other than Blaise Zabini. Zabini's fan page consisted largely of girls crying in their reaction videos, especially because one of the pictures had a shot of him and Hermione topless, the beautiful girl stretched out across his lap. _

* * *

**OoO**

* * *

'-really interested though? Because I know what you're like Hermione,' Harry murmured into the phone, clenching his eyes shut and hissing when Draco's hands ran through a particularly thick knot in his hair.

Dray leant over to press a kiss into Harry's hair as he whispered a soft 'sorry baby'.

'I like him a lot Harry considering that we've only been on one proper date.'

'Tell her,' said Draco, 'that he's the nicest guy of all of us.'

'Which makes it so much worse that he's interested in Mione,'

'Hey,' she cried on the other side whilst Dray laughed. 'Stop making me out to be some moral-deficient harlot.'

'Finished,' the blond sung, smoothing Harry's hair lovingly. 'You look cute with your hair half-up,' he pulled teasingly on the miniature ponytail. He traced the shell of Harry's damp ear with his tongue.

'How about I call you later Harry? I think he's getting out of the shower'

she hung up before they could say bye.

The two men stayed in the very comfortable position they were in, Harry tucked between Draco's legs and Dray running his hands over the tips of Harry's hair and across his broad shoulders.

Draco leant over to kiss Harry on the cheek and get his phone off the coffee table. He rolled his eyes upon seeing the twenty eight missed calls from Sev.

'What?' Harry murmured, turning over to peer at the phone.

'it's like he never wants me to relax.'

'Is it about the show in New York?' Harry asked slowly.

Draco stood up and fished a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting up and shrugging his shoulders. 'No idea. Probably. He will want me to be in New York by tomorrow morning.' He exhaled sharply and then looked up at Harry's ceiling. 'I just really wish I could take a holiday right now.'

'It's stressful having a job Dray, especially one like yours.'

Draco was pulling out a small bag of powder from his denim jacket and was simultaneously rolling up a ten pound note from his back pocket. 'Nothing a little Charlie can't help out with.' He speedily and expertly racked himself a thick line of coke on one of Harry's old books . Dray snorted a fat line, head falling backwards so he could stare even more intently at the sky blue ceiling with its hand painted stars and planets and moons, bringing the canvas to life. Draco moaned loudly.

Harry stood up quickly, all the more aware of the fact that his parents were downstairs. 'You've got to keep it down Dray, can't have my parents coming up to investigate. I'll put some music on,' he let Amy Winehouse blare as loudly as he could get away with, tucking the coke out of sight and pulling Draco over to stand between his legs.

The blond man all of a sudden lurched forward and pressed his lips firmly against Harry's, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and nibbling it. He coaxed Harry's mouth open and as soon as it was, the kiss instantly became hotter and wetter, so much deeper.

Harry fisted Dray's hair enough so that whilst it hurt, it felt so good that the model was moaning relentlessly. Draco's phone started to ring again and the blond roared in frustration. He kissed Harry a few more times. 'One second'. He snatched it from where he had tossed it in his high state and immediately answered the phone, to put an end to the blaring siren ringtone.

'What?' Draco hissed as soon as he answered.

'Not the tone to take with me Draco. I've been calling you for over an hour.'

The blond ran a rough hand through his hair. 'Sorry Sev. Just forgot about this stupid New York trip, which you say is imperative that I attend?'

'Absolutely, especially with the fuck up that happened at your party with all those drugs.'

'I've already apologised for that. But look, let me enjoy my last day with my boyfriend.'

There was a short silence on the phone and then, 'You'll be back soon. Surely he can wait.'

'yes but I think I can't. I'll call you in about an hour Sev, bye-bye now.'

Harry was flicking through the pictures of the clothes that had been sent to Draco. 'At least the outfits are nice,' he stated, staring particularly hard at the long, tight-fitted jumper that Draco would model first. It would look perfect on his body, the burgundy acting as means of bringing out the dormant rouge in Dray's cheeks.

'Only a few things.' He leant over to peer at the photo with Harry. 'I do like this jumper a lot but look at the trousers they want me to wear with it. I keep telling Givenchy that I don't mind wearing tights, I like that even with jumpers long like this; but I think they're still backwards and don't want guys wearing tights or nothing down below.'

Harry was nodding along with him. 'Still think clothes are gendered?'

'Something like that. Whilst I admit I could never pull off a dress there are some male models who can.' He ran his hands through Harry's hair and stared at him with piercing grey eyes. 'I remember this time Dean wore a long sleeveless dress with a slit on the side and it genuinely fucking suited him like mad you know, maybe just a little too short but still fucking hot as hell on him. And you know what? He got harassed so badly by the press and top dogs that I don't think he's ever even modelled shorts since then.'

Harry grinned cheekily. He loved how chatty Draco could be, but especially when sharing such an alien world to Harry. 'I think you should model it with no trousers. The jumper is certainly long enough.'

'I wish I was brave enough.' The other admitted, carding his fingers through the soft hairs at the base of Harry's neck.

* * *

**OoO**

* * *

**THE MIRROR**

_DRAY SLAYS WITH BARE LEGS _

Draco Malfoy, one of the hottest supermodels to have ever touched the earth, disrupts the whole Givenchy fashion show by walking the opening outfit with the bottom half of it missing. What's worse is that he did not return to finish, spotted jumping into an Uber with Harry-

* * *

**OoO**

* * *

'I can't believe he did that though,' Lily said over the dinner table, shaking her head with a smile.

Harry looked up from his rack of lamb and grinned. 'Pretty awesome of him right? As a way to say "fuck you" to all the gendered fashion forced upon him. I mean he really liked the jumper on its own mum.'

His father, who was staring just as intently at his divinely cooked lamb, murmured that Draco 'could have at least shaved his legs'.

'He said he doesn't know what it will do to his fashion career though,' Harry replied. 'But come on, Twitter and Instagram are supporting him more than ever.'

Lily was nodding quickly. 'I saw an article by the Guardian talking about how this is the first time in years that a mainstream model has disrupted a show so gravely.'

The sound of harsh rain from outside was hardly noticed by them, just background noise. It filled the silence whilst Harry wolfed down the last of his meat.

'Okay so mum, I'm not sure how to tell you this but Dray and I are official and I don't know whether to invite him around for a formal dinner or…' He trailed off upon noticing his mother's cheeky smile. 'What?' Softly.

'I can just tell Harry,' flicking red hair out of her face. James stood up and excused himself for the bathroom.

Anticipation and then a quick breath.

'what?' he muttered around a piece of roasted parsnip.

'That you're falling in love with him.'

Harry put down his knife and fork. 'Suppose I am,' he gulped nervously. He had gone and caught himself some feelings, hadn't he?

_Silly Harry._

* * *

_Thanks so much guys! Hope you have really enjoyed this chapter. I was just wondering whether you like the article and media extracts borough out the chapter or whether you would prefer me to put less of it in chapters _

_Also wondering what you think about Hermione's new bae?_

_Have a great evening! Please remember to review xx_


	8. The Next Big Step

_Disclaimer; I own nothing, 'cept OCs and a brunette Draco with all his cute mannerisms._

A/N: Thanks so much for viewing this story and following, but could I get some more reviews? More reviews = regular updates and a very happy author!

Hope you all enjoy! And hope you don't die from Draco-shock (he's so cute in this chappie!)

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Eight : The Next Big Step_

* * *

Harry was not a fan of Draco's new hair colour: chocolate brown and much too dark for him. It made Draco appear even younger as well, like a rosy-cheeked schoolboy rather than the thriving, fierce model that Harry had grown to care ever so intensely and deeply about.

He ran a hand through his boyfriend's silky locks as they both lay in bed, reunited after over half a week apart. He shook his head when he realised Draco was still speaking about the colossal argument Luna had gotten in with her nasty agent.

'...I really just wish there would be tighter rules on what agents can do to models. Asides from really fucking traumatise them and ridicule them for the way they may have gained a pound or two, agents can be pretty selfish as well.' Draco turned in the circle of Harry's arms to look deeply at him.

'Snape's never been like that to you?'

The former-blond shook his head vehemently. 'Never.' Then Draco chortled. 'I don't think he would _dare_ just because of the amount of mutual respect we have for each other. He may have done a lot for me but my family and I have helped Sev just as intimately.'

He suddenly jumped up, still talking but in the process of once more dressing after spending so long without clothes sheathing his body. 'I mean that's not to say Sev hasn't called me names before but usually in harmless jest, sometimes even warranted and called-for. I can be a bit of an arse when a shoot takes too long or-' he makes an appalled face, 'when my makeup artists are utter shit.'

Harry remains where he is stretched out on the bed, watching Draco struggle to put his turtleneck on. 'Snape does seem a little scary though. I couldn't imagine being friends with him-'

'He's an _awesome_ friend,' Draco replies firmly, eyes boring into Harry's when his head resurfaces. 'And manager. And uncle really. I mean he goes way back with mother and father so I've always been close to him on some level. And he never lets me get into contracts which could prove damaging to me or my family name.'

Harry softly shrugs, pulling Draco over until he lies on top of him. He quickly kisses him. 'Why are you putting clothes on?' His voice sounds almost comically distraught, like a child that has had all its toys taken away. 'I wasn't finished with you.'

He saw the light shining in Draco's precious blue-grey eyes, ablaze; effulgent; naked truth. He kissed his boyfriend's pouty red lips again.

'Huh,' he breathed; so coy was he, Harry thought with an affectionate grin. He knew Draco loved being wanted.

'Where are you going?'

'We are going to see Luna.' Draco said. 'Come on. And wear that shirt I bought you, it looks really fucking hot on you.'

Harry was hasty in obeying.

**oOo**

Luna's house was always pleasant to visit, as it was opposite the Kentish Town Lock, near Camden Town Station- such a desirable part of London. It was not even a house, rather a flat with a seemingly endless supply of bedrooms and closets. She also had a lovely view of the canal as well as the stunningly unique and Camden-eque architecture of the surrounding buildings. Amy Winehouse's old home was literally up the road.

Harry immediately noticed upon entering her home that Luna Lovegood was not in such a good mood. Her eyes were sunken behind heavy lids, cheeks stained with an almost permanent annoyance. Most shockingly of all, her lips were in a tight line, slashing across her face bitterly; expressing none of its usual shape and colour.

Rita Skeeter really had done a number on Luna.

She seemed to brighten up at the door when she saw Draco, or rather, his arms before they enclosed around her and kisses were peppered across her forehead, cheeks and nose.

'Hi Dray,' she said slowly, sniffing and kissing him on the cheek. She turned to Harry and was also ensnared into his arms, holding her tight against his broad chest and squeezing her. 'Hi Harry.'

'Hey Lunes,' the couple said simultaneously, drifting back to each other.

'How are you guys,' they followed her through the flat to the main living room.

'What did that witch say Luna?' Draco huffed impatiently, falling into the loveseat with her. He did not possess the patience to exchange pleasantries.

'The usual,' and tears were brimming in Luna's eyes. 'That I clearly don't want to have a career if I continue gaining weight. That my skin is looking the worst it has in years.' Then she heaves in a breath. 'S-she said n-no one w-w-wants me to w-work for them.'

'That's a fucking lie,' her friend hisses angrily, eyes swirling with fire amidst the grey.

'But-'

'Shut up,' he stormily replied. 'You can't actually be trying to side with her?'

The blonde woman hesitated for a moment. 'I kind of get what she means though.'

'Then you're stupider than I thought.' Luna was silent. Her attention had at last, been thoroughly commanded. 'You do realise she's just fucking jealous. You're a brilliant model Luna, one of the best in this country since Twiggy by far. Everyone wants you for editorials, runways, shoots. Was it not you-' her eyes widened as he continued, even louder, 'you who Versace and Louis Vuitton were fighting over last year?'

Harry wasn't sure if he was imagining it but he thought he saw the tears receding back into her eyes.

'And you definitely make it into the top three models I've wanked most over-'

This made her laugh.

'You're brilliant Luna. Utterly, incomprehensibly brilliant and letting this witch win is not the right or brave thing to do.'

Harry had not known Draco was so talented at giving pep-talks. He was barely beginning to comprehend how loveable and perfect his boyfriend was.

'… so I want you to fire her. I'll talk to Sev about helping you out whilst you find someone better than Skeeter to be your agent. Maybe I can even ask Sev to try to help you find someone. It won't be hard, have I mentioned how brilliant you are?'

Luna's eyes were wider, tear tracks barely visible on her cheeks anymore. She just stares at Draco for a really long time whilst he lists all the brilliant things about her. Then she kisses his forehead and leaps out of his arms and over to the antique bookcase.

'I love you Draco,' Luna interrupts, throwing a small bag at her best friend and catching the ghost of a wolfish laugh on his face.

'So, onto lighter topics, what do you think about my hair? Appalling or arousing?'

She grinned, tossing her hair back from her face and handing a few cans of beer to Harry. He cracked one open and gulped eagerly. Draco was not so eager with his can, instead opting to tip out half the bag of cocaine onto his iPhone 7+ screen (they were not still technically out yet) and rack some lines using his Oyster card.

She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. Tip toe and egg shells, Harry supposed.

'I kind of like it but I kind of hate it too. It makes you look like a kid.'

'Precisely what I said to him.' Harry commented slowly, eyes drawn to his boyfriend snorting three lines in quick succession. He bit his lip before taking a long gulp of the beer in his hand.

'Want a line Harry?' Slurred Draco, looking up at him with dark eyes behind even darker locks of hair.

He gradually shook his head, taking a sip of the beer in reply. 'No thanks.' Draco finished the rest of his fourth line and then began to crawl to Harry, chocolate bangs covering the burning eyes behind heavy lashes.

He sat between his boyfriend's legs and looked up at him, looking just a little too adorable to be the supermodel he was. Harry stroked his face and closed his eyes. 'You wanna meet my parents with this new hair colour?'

'Shit, I forgot we're having dinner with your parents later. I'll sort it out before then, the colour will just melt away with hot water.'

Luna made a cheering noise. 'Meeting parents now are we? This is a seriously big step.'

Suddenly, Draco's expression changed from coddling and affectionate to haughty. Harry did not know whether this transformation was the result of drug use, Luna's inspiring words or the realisation that this was big and huge and a real step forward.

_Parents._

'Suppose it is a big step forward.' With each word, Draco became more disillusioned with the idea of meeting Mr and Mrs Potter formally, as their son's first proper boyfriend. Would it work in his favour that he was related to Sirius Black, or would it taint their very first meeting even before an exchange of words.

'Very necessary next big step,' chirped Harry, sharing a somewhat surreptitious smile with Luna. She too had noticed Draco freaking out, exacerbated surely by the drug use.

'But it's only been a few months, haven't even hit the one-year mark yet.' He tried to reason.

'It doesn't have to be a year, you know. It could be a few weeks and they would still want to meet you.'

Draco looked to Luna for some support. 'But I'm really awkward around parents-'

His response was met with a shake of Harry's head. 'Too fucking bad Draco. My dad is even more awkward.'

'And your godfather. He hates my family, has probably already turned your parents against me-'

Met with more dismissal, in this case, a roll of Harry's emerald eyes. 'My godfather only has a problem with your dad. And your mother's eldest sister. Hardly you-'

'What about-'

Harry covered his mouth. 'Enough. Mother's already started cooking and the only thing that will turn her well and truly against you right now is if you cancel before she has even had the chance to cook her vegetarian lasagne.' He ruffled Draco's locks and kissed him sweetly. 'And you really don't want to miss out on mother's vegetarian lasagne. She has this trick with the aubergine-'

**oOo**

Draco was not sure if he had gone overboard with his mascara. Maybe his eyelashes looked a little too dark, too thick and long. He also felt incredibly self-conscious about his locks, returned to their natural golden state. Was it just him or did his curls still look a little too dry? Less bright?

He stared into the mirror and let out a long sigh. Draco felt terribly nervous, suspiciously so. He was just meeting his fuck-buddy's parents, nothing more than that. Only Harry mattered so much to him and this really could result in the end of their relationship.

James Potter could order Harry to never speak to Draco again, Lily could kick him out of their house. Sirius Black could beat him up for having a tool for a father.

He shook his head. He was being irrational.

'Can I come in yet?' Harry asked from behind the bedroom door in Draco's rented penthouse suite in North London's Marriot Hotel.

'Not yet, I haven't finished my makeup.'

'Stop trying to stall,' Harry laughed, entering the room in his own impeccable suit, his hair brushed back to reveal a sharp, tanned jaw- long, sculpted nose- bright burning eyes. He came to stand in front of Draco, stealing his attention. 'You look perfect.'

'What about my mascara?'

'Brilliant.'

'And my hair?'

His forehead was kissed in answer. Then Harry stared at Draco, who tried really hard not to look directly at him, because then he knew he would just fall apart. Harry shook his head knowingly and took ahold of both of his boyfriend's hands, with its spidery thin fingers, dusty knuckles, and the very cute gathering of golden brown freckles on one of his fingers.

'Why are you nervous?' The black-haired man asked curiously.

'Because I want your parents to like me-' the other man replied bluntly. There was almost a challenge in his eyes.

'They will! They'll love you-'

'If they don't?'

Harry sighed, only a little frustrated but understanding nonetheless.

'Huh?' He butted his forehead against his boyfriend's. What if they don't Harry?'

Then I...' he thought hard about what he would honestly do if his parents did not approve of his relationship with Draco. Give up the thing that made him happiest for what? His parents' satisfaction? Since when had that ever hugely mattered in Harry's decision-making. Sure he didn't want to distress his parents but just as sure was he that they would put his happiness above a little silly prejudice (mainly in the case of his father and godfather). 'I'll tell them to bugger off and we can elope.'

Somehow, he thought Draco looked _even more_ nervous.

They got an Uber to the Potter Manor in Holland Park. The whole journey consisted mainly of Harry trying to do anything to distract his partner, including telling him very embarrassing stories about his parents.

'Thanks for the ride boss,' Harry said kindly when they rolled up in front of his townhouse, family house, his beloved home. The huge silver gates were already open, and he could spot his godfather's Rolls Royce already parked up.

'Thanks very much,' the driver replied, his eyes glued to Draco. 'Thank you.'

They hastily got out of the car, Harry making sure to wrap an arm around Draco's middle, lest he try escaping with the Uber driver.

'Come on, we're almost there.' He tapped his finger on a sensor-pad and the large gates opened wide with an alarming groan. 'It's all going to be alright. They just want to get to know you Dray-'

'I know,' the model snapped almost impatiently. Then he remedied his tone and looked deep into Harry's warm eyes, laughing when he got lost in them. With a loud clearing of his throat, Draco swung back the knocker and let it collide with the door in three sharp raps.

Draco braced himself, hand shooting down to take Harry's tightly. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to _take the tension of waiting for all of it to come crashing down- **it** being Their Relationship; it being the thing that made him the most happiest he reckoned he had truly been for a while._

'Harry, Draco, it's so lovely to see you.'

There it was, the model thought silently...

_that warm voice_ and those goddamn green eyes. She embraced her son for a brief moment before she moved onto the main dish, the transcendent and shockingly beautiful model Draco Malfoy.

He barely managed to ready himself when Harry's very small mother threw her arms around him and hugged tightly. After a second's hesitation, Draco hugged her fiercely back.

'Good afternoon Mrs Potter-'

'Lily, please, no Mrs business. My, you look even more stunning than usual Draco.'

'It's probably the mascara I'm wearing. It's all an illusion, they just make my eyes seem bigger and brighter.'

She laughed, though it was not really meant as a joke. He let it slide though. Nerves made people do strange things, like how he had once more superglued himself to Harry's side. 'Well you must send me the details of it-'

'I can get you some next time I see you,' Draco vowed. 'I got this Beauty Mascara Collection Set for free from Gucci and I'm sure they have colours for eyelashes more reddish gold than mine.'

Harry's mother giggled radiantly. 'Please come this way,' and she led them to the drawing room, fit with its glorious fireplace and haphazard photos spread out on the walls across the room. There was a particularly cute one, Draco thought, when he saw a rather large portrait of a baby Harry, no older than two maybe. He was sat on a motorcycle and sitting behind him, an absolutely gorgeous black-haired, silver-eyed man, with a sharp jaw and long locks that brush his shoulders. The man was laughing hard in the picture as Harry cried in pleasure.

Another picture showed Harry and his father kicking a ball back and forth between each other, maybe taken ten or so years ago. Draco focused on Harry's father's laugh; just like his son's, with teeth and curled lips and clenched eyes.

'Good afternoon father,' Harry said, already half-way to embracing his dad. Stood next to Harry, they almost looked like twins. Save those burning eyes of course.

'Mr Potter,' said the model, extending a firm hand and almost shivering when it met James Potter's.

'James,' the older man corrected, shaking his hand firmly and giving him a smile, and whether it was warm or not, he got one at least.

'It's nice to finally meet you.'

'And the same to you, although it is certainly a surprise too, seeing you in the flesh, finally, after hearing so much-'

'Dad,' groaned Harry from where he was tucked under his uncle/godfatherxt's arm in a choke-hold. 'Get him off-'

Sirius Black was as stunning as he had been almost twenty years ago in the photo with Harry. His hair was perhaps a little shorter, his jaw more sharp, yet his smile was still the same- consuming and encompassing Draco vigorously.

'Draco Malfoy,' said Sirius slowly. 'An honour to meet you after all these years.' He extended his arm and Draco took it, not expecting to be pulled into a tight hug. 'Seriously, I havem't seen you since you were a little kid probably. Your mother isn't a huge fan of me.'

'Mother isn't a huge fan of anyone, even my own father.' There was a soft rumble of laughter across the room and he felt his smile shift into something a little more cheeky and confident.

This couldn't be too hard. He had Harry to support him, Harry's mother and probably his godfather too. They would make sure James Potter didn't devour him too readily.

'Would you like a drink?'

Sirius Black was already pouring a bottle of what looked like spiced Jamaican rum into a glass, the golden liquid sliding on two rocks of ice.

'Er-' interjected Harry, looking carefully at his godfather over his boyfriend's shoulder.

'Just one.'

* * *

_A/N: _Please leave a review, just to let me know what you think of this story so far. It helps to know what my audience think of my story; the way its written, the storyline. Makes for a healthy dialogue between us so I know what _to/not to do_.

It also helps me feel_ more appreciated and proud_ of this.

Hope you're all enjoying your lives AND this story! Let me know ;3 xx


	9. Wonderfully Different

**A/N: **I'm so sorry for taking a really long fucking time to update this story I haven't forgotten about it and want to make up for the unintentional hiatus with an extra saucy chapter I guess

Thanks for reading, reviewing, subscribing hope you all enjoy!

**smut ahead!**

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Nine : Wonderfully Different_

* * *

Flutes of champagne were refilled and conversation continued to flow through the night. Harry was a little more than relieved at the fact that his father had not yet done anything inappropriate, as after all, he knew he father could be both hot-headed and stubborn. But relieved did not mean elated, a truth which was emphasised more and more as the evening progressed. It was as though with the increasing intoxication of the table's inhabitants, Harry's father withdrew more into himself. But surely if Uncle Sirius was being as friendly and amicable as could be, and he had reason most to be a little hesitant and cold, James Potter should try hard to get along with Draco.

Make more of an effort.

Sirius and Draco were discussing the elder man's experiences in modelling when he had been Draco's age, and the constant anxiety that Sirius went through during the start of his once very blossoming career; now dulled and not as sought after. .

Harry godfather reached over to refill Draco's flute, laughing when the blond immediately picked it up and took a long sip. 'You know, I wanted to get into modelling because of you mostly.' Draco murmured, his eyes flicking to Harry and his lips. 'Mother was always proud of that at least. She admires beautiful things and you had, perhaps grudgingly, but most certainly been one of them for her..'

Sirius ran a hand through his locks and then took a sip from his millionth flute, taking a moment to process the answer.

'Your mother is still weary of me because of my relationship with her eldest sister. She does not like how much me and Bella war with each other. Hardly understandable considering it was James who tried to put the pin on her chair.'

Lily attempted to cover her giggling but it was all in vain. Draco cracked a smile and looked to Harry's father, hoping to see a mirror smile. 'Really?'

There was a very finite moment's pause before Sirius Black continued the conversation as smoothly as he could.

Harry almost shook his head; it would have been the perfect time for James Potter to bloody well finally say something. Instead he had looked a little blankly at the model, as if the words had fallen on deaf ears.

'-always the more mischievous of us four, but much more accomplished at keeping a poker face. Like back in private school, Remus used to always get away scot free when he was just as guilty, if not more.'

This time, Lily's laugh was what rung through the room; much softer than Sirius's. 'And why would Remus ever be more guilty than you two.'

A devilish smile flickered across Sirius's lips in response, dancing there for a moment before a more serious expression schooled his face. 'Because he should have kept a tighter leash on us.' Then he downed his flute of champagne and laughed with the rest of the table. Even a smile threatened the corners of James's mouth.

The last few bottles of bubbly were mostly polished off as conversation continued to flow in a steady stream across the table. Lily and Sirius were arguing over something that had happened in the past whilst James stayed quiet for most of the debate, flinging in a comment once or twice . As for Harry, he could only focus on one of the most perfect, _fuck_, most gorgeous men in the whole world. Harry's eyes kept flicking to Draco's and they shared very surreptitious glances with one another, clandestine like schoolchildren in class. Draco's eyes looked as they were on fire, like burning stormy swirls- locked to him

'Want to have the last glass?' Harry asked, pouring it without pause for answer. The blond man looked at him and smiled.

'Are you okay?' Harry whispered softly. He watched every movement of Draco's intently, hand a breath away from clasping his boyfriend's.

'Yes. Just a lot more drunk than I thought I would be. And you?'

'I want to take you on a tour around the house. '

'Should we perhaps wait for dinner to be over?' Draco downed the glass.

Harry shook his head quickly and stood up, signalling for Draco to stand too.

'I'm going to take Draco for a tour.'

Sirius Black laughed and nodded. 'Very big house, make sure to show him around the shoe cupboards.'

Harry stuck his tongue out and then looked to his mother for some affirmation. She was looking curiously at Draco, as if confused by a secret fact that remained hidden to them.

'Miss out on me winning the argument with Sirius then-'

'Hey,' laughed Sirius; then Harry and Draco left hurriedly, a little drunkenly too.

'Upstairs,' said Harry, taking his boyfriend's hand and dragged him into a brisk jog, feeling as though they were going faster than they actually were.

'I remember most of the tour,' Draco laughed. 'Can't we just cut to the making out?'

'That's what we're doing,' as they climbed another huge staircase, walls lined with so many pictures. It really was unbelievable- like Draco was watching Harry grow through the artfully captured snippets of his life. Cute pictures of him in costumes, ones of his riding bikes with stabilisers. What was most cute were the pictures of Harry on huge football pitches with his father, a splitting image of his father; same toothy grin and big dimpled cheeks; wrinkled nose and eyes tightly squeezed shut.

They arrived at Harry's room and pretty much pounced on one another. Draco fisted Harry's hair, pulling his head back and attacking his long stubbly throat. At the same time as the jugular assault, the model started directing them toward the bed.

'Fuck,' Draco huffed when he very gracefully fell on top of his boyfriend, and successfully knocked all of the breath out of him. Whilst Harry fought to get his stolen breath back, Draco moved down the length of his body and came to a staggering halt at Harry's very much covered penis.

'Shit wait,' Harry panted heavily- his eyes still tightly shut. 'My … my parents- downstairs-'

'Yes but we are very much upstairs,' slurred the other man, already having pulled Harry's trousers down and in the process of pulling his underwear off too.

'We can't-'

'Be a little spontaneous-' Draco taunted.

'I am spontaneous,' Harry began to say indignantly before Draco silenced him with a kiss. Very _slowly_ Harry closed his large eyes; sunk into the kiss like it was made of mud. But it wasn't, far from it in fact; pure and sweet affection permanently stained their kiss. Though at moments the kiss turned aggressive it only served to fuel their enthusiasm and arousal.

Without warning, Draco's hand latched onto Harry's cock. The dark haired man clenched his mother eyes shut and bit his bruised lip hard, further bruising it.

'I'm really turned on right now and this isn't good-'

'That's a fucking contradiction and you know it.' Draco swept the hair in his eyes out of the way and fixed the stormy orbs onto Harry's emerald ones as he once more grasped Harry's cock. 'Let me…' He kissed the tip and looked back up at the boyfriend, touching Harry's hair-sprinkled thigh with his other hand.

'Yeah?'

Everything was silent. Harry could not hear; cannot process what Draco does to him and his body .

'You know…'

_So coy…_

'What?'

_worse than torture. _

The pale blond man with rouge cheeks and very stormy eyes grinned widely; his glossy teeth on display. 'Make you feel good…'

Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Draco's. So mesmerising.

'Okay.'

Draco lowered himself again, drawing Harry into his mouth and sucking hard.

Harry reached behind himself to grab his iPhone, holding it in front of him as he swiped up and got the camera working. The sight of Draco bent between his legs, sucking and kissing his cock was too splendid to not be able to relive.

Then Draco hummed and nipped the head and Harry moaned much louder than he should have. Dancing, blazing silver eyes met Harry's as he was swallowed down even further into Draco's mouth.

He was murmuring words of encouragement now, especially because Draco was moving faster, swallowing for longer and sucking even harder.

He was about to come and hadn't even been able to fuck Draco yet. But wait-

How could he forget?

'Fuck me,' Harry hummed, eyes fluttering like tiny little wings.

Draco halted in his movements. Sluggishly he looked up, with gorgeously dark, almost black eyes. 'What?'

'You heard me,' slurred the other man. He slid his hand up the side of Draco's face and fisted his hair. 'Fuck me.' He drew closer to Draco until they were a breath apart, lips barely touching. 'Fuck me.'

Draco nodded quickly, kissing as hard and desperately as he could. He grazed Harry's heart with the kiss and left a terribly strong mark behind.

'Lie down,' Draco murmured; dark hushing breath fanning over Harry.

'You need lube-'

'I know where it is.' He stumbled onto his feet and over to the drawers, pulling the bottom one open and grabbing some lube.

He then stumbled back over to his boyfriend and kneeled between Harry's legs. Draco split them, staring at the puckered hole, much much too small to fit his cock in. A small kiss was deposited onto the inside of Harry's thigh.

Soothing- unintentionally sedating perhaps. Trying to calm Harry.

The lubrication was a cold shock to the dark haired man's burning body but he was distracted seemingly at an instant when Draco's long finger entered him. Then a second finger. Third. Harry began to enjoy it; the sensation foreign now considering he had not had penetrative sex in a while.

Then Draco did something, something _dangerously_ good that had Harry letting out a mewling moan. The phone had fallen beside him now; entirely forgotten.

'Again!'

So the blond model did it again; strange smile torn across his lovely face as he crooked his finger. He did it again and again and again-

The mewling moans grew louder, more frequent.

Harry, so foolish for begging, could not hold back the inevitable, especially when Draco reattached his pretty mouth to Harry's throbbing cock.

The inevitable being an earthshaking orgasm that Harry would not forget any time soon.

It took him a while to come back to earth.

Perhaps it was divine intervention though, because Harry's phone started to ring.

_Mummy_

Draco laughed, weird twinkle in his eye and quirk to his lips. 'I think that's our cue.'

He stood.

'But what about you?'

'We can sort me out after. I'll just pee and wash up.' He leant over to kiss Harry and then said: 'Turn the video off too.' He laughed as he left through a door in Harry's room to go to the bathroom.

The dark haired man fell back onto the cushions , phone hovering over his face and eyes still swimming. He was utter jelly and wasn't sure why his mother was calling but cleared his throat and answered.

'Mum?'

'Hey, just wanted to tell you that your father, godfather and I are popping out. Do you need anything?' She sounded more than a little drunk.

'Erm … we're good thank you. Have fun.'

'You too.'

He hastily removed his jumper, his top, managed one of his socks before he heard flushing in the toilet. He dimmed the lights and just as he turned around, was confronted with the noise of the bathroom door closing.

'What-?'

'They've gone,' kiss, 'just us' consuming kiss, 'let me make you…' he touched Draco's bulge, 'feel good,': in a crash of limbs they tumbled onto the bed; each enthusiastic to bring the other to greater realms of pleasure.

Harry's parents were gone a lot longer than "popping out" implied and so as a result the internal promise of redefining pleasure was achieved.

Having Draco's head above his, sweat dripping from his forehead, sharp jaw, rolling down the hard panes of his fabulous body made it even more enjoyable. He watched –transfixed – as Draco bit his lip, thrusting into Harry torturously slow. His eyes rolled back when Draco delivered a particularly jolting thrust.

'Oh fuck,' he moaned. Then he dug his heels into the fleshy globes of Draco's cheeks. 'Kiss me now.'

'Demanding'

Draco was pulled into a kiss, mostly with tongue and teeth as the blond continued to fuck his boyfriend as hard as he could.

Just as he was falling in love harder than he ever had in his life.

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

It was insane how much Harry could wank over the video he had of Draco finger-fucking and sucking him dry. Just hearing the noises Draco made in the video were enough to push him over the edge. It was good to have the video though because before yesterday, the pair had been split for a few days whilst Draco was in New York.

It had changed their relationship; Draco getting to finally fuck him this time. It was strange to Harry to have his boyfriend stood behind him, slapping his arse… pounding into him… pulling his hair-

It really had grown long.

Harry fished for his packet of cigarettes in his bedroom dresser when his phone started ringing. It was a FaceTime call.

He answered the phone.

'Draco?'

'One second…'

Then a face appeared and dear lord had Harry really forgotten how resplendent his boyfriend's face was. Draco was grinning widely.

'Guess what?'

Harry's lips quirked in a quick smile. 'You're almost at my house.' He noticed the background behind Draco's head: he was riding in a black cab.

Draco's face seemed to sour a bit. 'Okay well guess the second part.'

'Is it that you're rushing over to suck my cock dry?'

Suddenly the sour face seemed to transform into a laughing one and Draco chuckled.

'Not quite. We're going on a holiday. Three nights in Paris.' The cab jolted to a stop and Draco put his phone down, taking out some cash from his jacket and giving it to the driver. Harry ran down the stairs and buzzed the gates open. 'You can drive inside,' he heard his boyfriend tell the driver. Then Harry heard the slamming of the taxi door and Draco walking briskly towards the front door.

Harry opened the door and ushered Draco in, kissing him all of a sudden and pressing him against the door.

'Ow, doorknob pressing into me-'

'Sorry,' Harry whispered, releasing Draco enough for him to shift off the doorknob, however not quite enough to escape his clutch.

Harry started to kiss Draco's neck; kiss with too much tongue, too much lust.

'We're going to Paris?' he implored, voice an overwhelming purr.

'Yes, I thought it might be nice for us to escape for a bit. Haven't been to Paris in a while though.'

'How long is a while?'

'A few months.'

'Before us?'

Draco nodded before bequeathing a marvellously soft kiss to Harry's bottom lip.

'When are we going?'

'Tomorrow.'

There was laughter but not a second later. 'Seize the day huh?'

The blond nodded and kissed Harry again. 'Come on, let's make the most out of your parents not being here. Maybe you can suck my cock dry and-'

Draco thought it a little rude that he weren't able to finish his sentence but at the same time appreciated very much Harry's effort in reuniting their bodies as he was pulled into a brisk jog up the stairs.

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

Snapchat Story:

* * *

Draco wore a burgundy turtleneck with dark jeans and loafers. The burgundy colour served to pronounce the lack of colour in Draco's cheeks; stolen, plain. The air was chilly but cigarettes and coffee kept them distracted from the white cold. Harry held the phone up, keeping it glued to what he now viewed as his property.

Draco was smoking a cigarette outside one of his favourite cafés in Paris. His eyes were glued to the two dozen or so schoolchildren in bright yellow safety jackets as they lined the fountain- so very clearly on a school trip and no older than seven. All of a sudden _blooming red blossoms_ exploded across Draco's sharp chiselled cheeks; his burgundy turtleneck now highlighting; exploding. He started giggling and Harry turned to see that one of the children had pushed another into the fountain.

He quickly refocused the camera to the other man's, making sure to catch the dying smile on his brilliantly animated face.

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

Hermione and Blaise had agreed to go on a double date with Harry and Draco. A few drinks later and Hermione was explaining rather honestly how she felt as a technically "mixed-race" person that tended to be white-passing and thus not expected to want to retain her blackness. She did of course. Hermione loved her west African roots. She always liked to think she looked a little like her Senegalese grandmother.

'So, have you ever been to Senegal?' Blaine implored, his hand falling to cradle something in Hermione's lap, maybe her hand.

'Yes,' she grinned. 'Loads of times. I have quite an amazing history over there…'

As her and her boyfriend continued talking, Harry turned to Draco, who was sipping his wine and watching Hermione.

'You okay?'

'Yeah,' murmured Draco. 'Never thought Hermione was part black. She's right about the white-passing business.'

Harry chuckled. 'Most don't until she goes on holiday to a really hot country and comes back brown.' The dark haired man felt a weight on his lap and met burning eyes alight with humour.

'What about you?'

Harry shook his head. 'I do think somewhere up my line there's a bit of Scottish.'

Draco laughed softly and leant in to Harry's ear. He kissed it. 'Still got that video on your phone?'

Harry's heart beat in his chest; drumming, thrumming, disrupting his breath with heaviness. His nod was minuscule.

'Show me,' a purr. Had Draco turned into a cat all of a sudden? His purr was certainly convincing enough.

'Here-'

'No one can see,' he laughed. 'So show me.'

Harry put his phone under the table so only Draco could see, muted the volume and hastily put the video on. The tab had been open since Harry had recorded the video. He pressed play.

Then there it was: Draco had his mouth on Harry's cock, sucking it and massaging his balls. A lurch shook Harry's belly and he bit his lip to restrain a groan.

'No, we shouldn't do this here,' Harry began to protest but was instantly silenced.

'Shush, watch this part.' Sure enough Draco was right, as his phone self swallowed Harry's whole dick and then withdrew and looked into the camera; blazing eyes of mischief. He laughed whilst the phone shook in Harry's hand. Then one of the hands left the task of keeping the phone up and went over to cradle Draco's jaw, following a soft trail to Draco's sharp cheekbones before finally going to his hair. Then Harry started to thrust into Draco's pouty mouth.

_Fuck._

He shivered at the table in the packed restaurant and hastily turned the phone off and fastened a glare to his boyfriend. 'We're not doing that here.'

'Don't act like you're not turned on by it. The way I was sucking and kissing your cock.' His voice, so quiet, yet to Harry, like it was screamed. He looked at Blaise and Hermione. They were still distracted with one another; aided by the steadily shrinking bottle of wine between them.

'I'm failing to understand whether you do this because you're evil or you're a sex craved monster.'

'Maybe I'm both?'

'Even worse.'

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please tell me what you think


	10. Too Fast For Who?

**A/N:** hello, I'm posting this much faster than I usually push out chapters but I've found myself with a lot of free time recently and can think of nothing more that I would rather do than write some Drarry love please please leave a review and tell me what you think!

**smut ahead!**

* * *

_Smells Like Teen Spirit_

_Chapter Ten : Too Fast For Who?_

* * *

'Are you awake?'

'No. And _neither_ are you.'

'Harry…'

'I can't hear you-'

'But I can't sleep.' Draco's face appeared above Harry's. He tried to pry his boyfriend's eyes open. When they did open after a few seconds of Draco's long spidery fingers digging into his face, Harry was prepared to glare and scowls up at him miserably. Instead, when his eyes met Draco's they softened instantly. Draco's beauty was incomprehensible. Undeniable yet striking.

It seemed to happen often now; Harry would forget that he had the most beautiful boyfriend in the world. Then Draco would look at him, a stare that would catch Harry off guard and bring him down to his knees.

Harry watched carefully as Draco kept opening and closing his eyes. He looked so much like a cat; the way his back was arched and how he snuggled deeper into Harry's naked body.

'Why can't you sleep?'

'I'm nervous.'

'What?!' Harry cried, more than a little surprised that Draco was admitting this. In the following weeks since the dinner at Harry's home, Draco had taken Harry and his mother to a restaurant in South Kensington that he deemed one of the best. He had productive meetings with Snape and the fashion designers that aspired to work for him. He has been in his element and seemed stronger than ever, stopping at nothing until Draco Malloy conquers everything. Or so Harry thought anyway.

'Why are you nervous?' He asked in a whisper.

Draco sighed and collapsed on top of his boyfriend, serving to both reawaken and cajole Harry's sleepy erection to fullness. 'I have so much work to do. They want me to spend a week over in Paris and then after that they want me to go straight to Milan for a meeting with a few of the major fashion houses. And meetings never last for a few hours, especially when new collections are coming out and they want to show me everything.'

Draco wasn't entirely sure if Harry was processing everything he said, only that his hands grew softer on Draco's waist and the tips of his fingers skimmed over the model's wide shoulders and slender torso.

'Very busy few weeks ahead then.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Of course it's very busy. I'll barely have any time to spend with you.'

'Ah,' murmured the other, 'but what if I came with you?'

Draco suddenly felt like the mood had switched. It hadn't of course, unless he wanted the mood to change. How was Harry to know what a monster he was during preparation for future runway walks; how mean he could be when he was not getting his way…

Slowly, he started shaking his golden head. 'No. I don't think so.'

'What,' began Harry but Draco interrupted him.

'It will be so boring, I promise, you won't miss out on anything.'

'But it seems fun,' harry murmured, staring up into Draco's eyes and hardly noticing the blond hair that tickled his face when Draco moved.

'Very deceitful, I assure you.'

'Maybe you need to have a bit of a break then.'

'If anything,' Draco said slowly, 'I need to work harder. With Fashion Week in a couple of months, I have a lot coming up…'

Even after Harry's arms came to wrap around Draco's midriff, holding so tenderly, squeezing in all the right places; and when he fell asleep with his head nestled in the junction between his boyfriend's neck and shoulder, the model still could not sleep. He wasn't so sure why he was painfully anxious but regardless, sleep barely glimpsed him that night.

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

**HEAT EXCLUSIVE**

_What's New With Dray the Bae_

Worldwide modelling sensation Draco Malfoy, recently appearing in the newest addition of Vogue on an editorial spread for Chanel, has been spotted in Mayfair house hunting in company of his boyfriend Harry Potter.

Draco has not previously had his own home in London, rather opting to stay with his parents or in various hotels across his hometown city. Could this perhaps be a sign of him progressing his relationship with Harry Potter? Or is he planning to spend more time in London to get to know the man that the world has eagerly been trying to discover-?

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

'And for you sir,' the pristinely dressed white waiter murmured to Draco, placing the plate before him and setting down a glass. 'Would you like more wine sir?'

The blond man nodded softly, gave his thanks and then turned back to his date. 'Where were we?'

Harry swirled the sparkling water in his glass; smirk almost tangible in the air, and with his coy eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his boyfriend's, it was entirely purposeful. He had switched to water when the two glasses of wine got him tipsier than he cared to admit

'I was telling you about my mother's invitation to you. She has found, what she argues is the best Brazilian restaurant she has ever been to.'

The model sipped from his glass whilst pondering over Harry's words. 'Is this our chance to tell your mother that you're thinking of moving in with me…?'

The air froze; barely for a second before it righted itself and Harry was given a moment to process the question. He licked his lips nervously.

'I'm not sure…' he didn't intend to sound as honest and resigned as he did. But the matter of fact was that he did come across that way and it somewhat sharpened Draco's gaze. He latched his swirling eyes on to Harry's burning green ones.

'Really? Why is that?'

Harry skirted around his words, afraid to both offend and suffer the consequences of his words being misconstrued. 'It's just'

'Your father.' Draco said bluntly; once swirling grey eyes now flashing- had fire consumed them now? Or perhaps the fire was only really a response to his disappointment.

'Not that … it's just … my parents might need a little time. I'm still gonna stay with you as often as I can … I just want to not freak them out with how fast this is going.'

There was a slight hardening of Draco's jaw- and it spoke of a young man who was used to always getting his way not getting his own way.

'but you know Dray, it's good if we go out more with mother. She's the one who has always worn the pants in my family.' Harry reached for Draco's hand.

A silence filled the air for a few minutes whilst Draco poked at his scallops and courgettes with his unoccupied hand. 'Try some of this,' he stabbed a particularly luscious scallop and bought it to Harry's mouth, the fork rubbing at his lip upon its departure.

'So yummy,' Harry breathed softly. Then he chanced a look up at Draco and what he encountered almost scolded him. Maddening silver eyes with_ no mercy_.

When they finished their meals quickly, Draco ordered them an Uber to his hotel room. He was moving into Mayfair tomorrow but was leaving the day after to go to Paris with Sev. The Mayfairesque penthouse was stunning with several lavish bedrooms and bathrooms and wardrobes as well as a luscious pool on the wide balcony garden. The only problem was that Harry was not going to move in with him.

He didn't want to be alone, especially because he had forgotten what loneliness really was. An emotion that was foreign to everything Draco was and still is…

Lonely is not one of them.

But Harry called for the waiter and stole Draco's attention with his charming smile and doting eyes.

It was hard to keep their hands off each other in the cab; they tore at each other's clothes and sucked one another's lips to a bruising, blushing red. Then they stumbled up the stairs, fought to keep control in the lift and when they finally reached Draco's hotel suite, Harry was dragged hurriedly to the bedroom.

He had not been able to get enough of Draco inside him since that mind blowing night, where he had been reacquainted with penetrative sex. Yet it seemed Draco enjoyed it immensely too.

Harry wanted to make him feel good though, wanted to let Draco be selfish and use him.

Just as Draco wanted to desperately use him. He had been looking forward to the idea of Harry living with him. They saw each other often enough. But still-

He felt so unbelievably safe. That was what Draco had always wanted. Someone who made him feel safe and secure. Like now. Harry's arms coming around his body to hold him tight. So sweet.

_Loving._

Draco moaned loudly when Harry's tongue migrated to his neck, bitingly and demanding. Yet soon a soft wet tongue ran over the abused skin before swiftly moving downwards.

When had his shirt come off?

'oh fuck,' he panted, running a hand through black locks and pulling hard enough for Harry to feel his annoyance. When a hand roughly grasped his cock though, his previous annoyance was hastily forgotten. 'I'm still coming with you tomorrow Dray. Going to help you arrange everything.' Then he flashed a quick smile and leant down to nip Draco's cock- it's bursting bulbous end.

'Christen the beds too?'

'Naturally.' He sucked Draco's dick into his mouth and swallowed, making the sensation that much tighter and wetter.

'Fuck,' Draco huffed, thrusting as deep as he could down his boyfriend's throat.

Harry's hands migrated to Draco's thighs and tightened around them as if to restrain him.

Draco shut his eyes tight and let out a quiet purring mewl. He was leaving for Paris soon and had been put under a huge amount of pressure by the newest editorial director of Givenchy. It made his job difficult in many aspects, primarily because Draco was somewhat testing in work related situations. He could be snappy, over critical too! But that was only due to his argumentative nature, right?

Not at all because he was controlling. He liked the final say was all.

Not just that but Harry wasn't moving in with him, to sour his spirits even more. Draco had excitedly told Luna and Dean that he was planning to ask Harry. It left Draco feeling as though his ego was a little grazed by this outcome too: who wouldn't want to move in with him? He was Draco Malfoy, one of the most successful models of his age. He was gorgeous too.

Gorgeous.

_didn't Harry think so?_

Or was there another reason that he did not want to move in with Draco…

Suddenly plunged under freezing cold water, or similar to the feeling anyway, Draco was violently wrenched out of his thoughts (how had he even gotten lost in them) by Harry's finger entering him.

He let out a low moan and started huffing breathlessly into the air, his arms falling uselessly beside him. Then a hand rose to grab Harry's hair, to pull him closer. He himself was so much closer to completion than he thought he could possibly be from a five minute blow job.

Harry, he noted, was smirking against his shaft. Taunting him with his cheekiness.

'Take off your clothes,' Draco panted as he swiftly tightened his grasp on Harry's hair to push one last thrust up into Harry's mouth. He heard his boyfriend choking and found some secret pleasure in it. So he did it again. He was allowed to be selfish; he was moving in alone tomorrow after all.

_Loneliness_. That strange, foreign emotion…

Harry stood up tall and proud, removing first his shirt and then his shoes and trousers. He left his boxers on however and this had Draco letting out a disgruntled groan. There he was acting like a spoilt child again.

'Take off your-'

'No,' Harry said very quickly with a vehement shake of his head. 'No, not my boxers. Gonna keep this about you right now.' Harry sunk back onto his knees: managing to speed Draco's heart, send butterflies swarming through his stomach and reawaken the throbbing in his groin.

'Hmm? Me?'

'Yeah,' kiss to his shaft, 'definitely about you right now.' Another kiss. 'Especially because you need to remember who you belong to.'

'Oh yeah?' Draco did not intend to sound so playful, just that he naturally was. He also liked the idea of Harry keeping it all about him. After all, Draco was so spoilt that sometimes things just didn't feel right unless they revolved around him.

Harry parted the model's long legs, staring appreciatively and following the same meandering journey his eyes took with his tongue.

This only made Draco cry louder and he fisted Harry's thick dark locks; showing him just how much pleasure he was consumed by. It did not last much longer after that, especially when a few fingers buried themselves inside Draco and destroyed any remaining restraint he had.

What was more was that he didn't even mean to choke Harry- thrusting deep into his throat was merely a side effect of how good he felt.

Draco pulled his boyfriend into a harsh kiss as his tongue swept over Harry's salty one. He felt so safe and secure that it was near enough disconcerting.

'You want your turn yet?' Draco's breath fanned over his face before they met for another brief, sloppy kiss.

'In a minute. I wanted to talk about something first…'

The model fell back into the sheets. 'Go on,' and there it was again; a momentary frostiness to the way he pronounced his words. Or maybe it was just that his lips weren't pressed in a warm embrace to Harry's.

it was a part of Draco that Harry had still to get used to: this defensive, biting, scared part of his boyfriend's character.

Draco knew that Harry was feeling that way. But what was he do be other than utterly guarded? He had so much to hide.

'You know I want to move in with you Dray. I want us to live together. It's just … it's like things are moving too fast…'

'But fucking on the first date wasn't?'

Harry's words died on his lips. He wasn't sure what he had been about to say, just that as the rational thoughts in his head died on the tip of his tongue, the hurt that blossomed inside of him began flinging scathing words back.

'Fucking on the first date is not going too far. Unless you're more old-fashioned than you make out to be.'

This sparked fire in Draco's eyes and he grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair, smirking down at his face. 'I wasn't complaining.'

'Then don't try to come at me on this stance like you don't understand why I feel like this is moving too fast. My dad is only starting to get that I'm with you and that nothing he says is going to change us.' Harry's hands found their way tangled in Draco's locks. They stared at each other.

'But it's not something that can happen overnight.'

Draco's hands fell from Harry's hair, no longer pulling the man to him. Rather, he fell back resigned and let out a shaky sigh.

'I don't get how your father can have such a problem with me yet your fucking godfather is cut from the same cloth as I am.'

Harry had already begun peppering kisses on his boyfriend's face, trying to forget the annoyance that had raged inside him. But Draco was not trying to forget. His intentions were a lot more selfish.

Why didn't James Potter like him and yet loved Sirius Black like a brother?

'I think our fathers don't get on very well is what,' Harry's head appeared above his own and he was grinning, positively beaming now. 'But why should that stop us?'

He was touching Draco intimately now, completely grounding the blond and stealing his breath like a hungry thief in the dead of night.

'I'm moving in tomorrow,' he reminded Harry, touching his bottom lip before following it up with a sweet kiss.

'Yeah,' the other replied.

'Which means I don't have time to waste arguing.' Draco wound his hand back in Harry's locks and pulled his face down towards his own.

They kissed with a heated passion that awakened the feral desire and lust that had hidden inside of Draco. The desire exploded out of him: clawing at Harry and biting his lips and sucking his tongue into a battle.

Lit was like they hadn't argued.

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

Draco and Harry managed to christen a couple of the beds in the new penthouse, as well as some of the-

Bathtubs.

Kitchen counters.

Tables.

Sofas.

Even against some of the doors. And more than they could count in the swimming pool.

It was a fine summers day, hot air fanning on their wet slick bodies. They were skinny dipping in the pool, swimming lazily to each other and kissing, touching, fucking whenever they had energy. It was probably not a great idea considering that Draco was a globally recognised celebrity but for once he felt like all of his worries were firmly explicable from the current situation. He had postponed his trip to Paris for another day and was going to spend it solely with Harry.

He was in the middle of posting a picture of himself and Harry in the pool when his phone started to ring. It was Sev.

He rolled his eyes as he picked up. 'Good afternoon Sev,' he drawled into the phone, mouthing a quick apology to Harry as he hopped out of the pool. Draco wrapped a towel around his waist and sat on the side of the pool, flicking water every so often at his boyfriend and grinning. Harry's tongue rolled out of his mouth and it darted up to try and catch some of the droplets, despite how futile his efforts were amidst his laughter.

'… you understand?'

'Wait what?' Draco said quickly, snapping out of the reverie that Harry's tongue had placed him in, 'I wasn't listening.' He could practically hear Sev roll his eyes.

'I said that you're getting a recorded delivery within the next two hours. It contains attire from both Dior and Tom Ford so make sure you're seen wearing them.'

The blond nodded to himself, a tumble of locks falling to cover his face whilst simultaneously, he continued his water-assault on Harry. The green eyed man was laughing ecstatically, showing off with his impressive backstrokes now.

The conversation quickly died after when Sev announced that he had a few errands to run before he and Draco were to leave. It was however with this last thought that Draco stood up from the poolside to whisper a few more words to his mentor.

'Sev, I just wanted to quickly ask you something.'

'Yes…'

'Harry's birthday is in a few weeks and I don't really want to be working when that comes up. At least not for a few days.'

There was a short pause before his dear friend murmured, 'I'll see what I can do. Maybe reschedule some of your plans.'

'You're great.'

'Take care Draco.' Then Severus hung up.

When the model returned to Harry's side, the towel long forgotten on the floor, he noticed that the camera was facing him. His gait transformed instantaneously, as did the way his limbs fell about him; more sultry and purposeful, without the model even noticing. He grinned at the camera, sometimes his best friend…

Draco had always felt comfortable under a camera's burning gaze; a fact which had often confused people when he was younger. But it was natural for him to crave the never ending, loving gaze of the camera lens. After all the camera knew him best sometimes.

'What are you doing,' the blond whispered quietly, striking a lovely pose with his head tipped back and his eyes twinkling in excitement.

'Just pictures for myself. You look so good,' and Harry was half out of the water now. 'Swap places with me,' he breathed.

Only one of the pictures of Draco ended up on Snapchat, for he could not deny the brilliant way in which Harry captured his laughing eyes and the smirk dancing on his lips. His body was dripping with water, half out of the tinted blue waves. Draco's hair was dark and heavy with water but that served only to pronounce the strikingness of his face. His cheekbones and jaw.

It was only one picture on Snapchat, later uploaded to Harry's Instagram. Still, it was enough to bring the world to its knees. And later, certainly more than enough to bring Harry to his knees too.

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

'So,' Luna began in a quiet voice to Draco. They were having lunch in Draco's favourite South African restaurant in the world, situated in Piccadilly Circus. He was eating his lentil and yam stew when Luna decided to open her mouth for the first time since receiving their food.

Draco put down his knife and fork then wiped his mouth with the napkin beside his plate. He gave Luna his unwavering attention. 'Yes?' He prodded when she remained silent, no doubt wondering how best to phrase her question.

'Harry hasn't moved in quite yet?'

The tall man remained silent, pinching the white skin of his hand and watching it redden with attentive eyes. Now was Draco's chance to ponder a bit on his words.

'Hmm, well I just got back from Milan the other day. I thought I might wait a bit before I ask… again…'

This had Luna's head shooting up to stare at her best friend. 'What?' They pretended not to notice the people sitting a few tables down taking pictures of them, no doubt to plaster all over the internet and their social media. He slowly put on his Gucci sunglasses despite them being indoors, and turned to face Luna

'you have already asked?'

Draco's face failed to reveal any of his emotions. Maybe it was the hard set of his mouth and the sunglasses covering most of his face. 'Yes. But he wanted to Lunes; don't misinterpret me. Just that his father might not be wholly comfortable with it. Or so Harry says.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that his mother would be over the moon and thrilled for Harry but his father is still not over Lucius Malfoy's son fucking his own kid.'

Luna's face soured. 'Not that Harry's with a guy?'

He shook his head. 'No, he doesn't care that it's a dick Harry is fucking, just that it's my dick.' Draco picked up his fork and viciously speared a piece of yam, munching eagerly on it. When he finished, he continued on with his tirade. 'It's just that what bugs me is how he said he doesn't want things to go too fast...'

she smirked 'Too fast for who?'

'His father of course '

'Then you need to change it.' Luna practically roared at him. 'Pander to his father's interests then.'

'Like I haven't tried Luna.'

She laughed when she answered him. 'Well carry on trying then!' She poured herself another glass of champagne and topped up her friend's. 'listen to this though, Harry's a mummy's boy first and foremost?'

Draco laughed and nodded. 'Definitely.'

'Then it will just take time for James Potter to open up to you. He's cautious is all, especially after the history you say he shares with your father.'

'Well he should take it up with the man himself.' Pause whilst they drank from their flutes. 'It's just confusing is all. I mean the only one who has reason most out of that whole family is Sirius Black and he's as charming as mother promised me.'

Luna leaned over as if to inspect Draco's face and mouth but she just started giggling really loud. 'And still handsome as ever?'

The tall man nodded with a rumbling laugh. 'Fucking beautiful guy with just about the most striking eyes I've ever seen.'

Luna conjured up a picture on her phone and shoved it under her friend's nose. It was Sirius Black and his stunning partner from maybe two or three years ago. Sirius Black's white skin was sun kissed, a little more brown and with his hair stark black against his skin, served to only pronounce his darkened complexion. The tuxedo he wore was a lavish and pure black, as dark as his hair.

The woman beside him was undeniably beautiful as well. Her skin was a deep brown, her eyes browner still. She barely reached Sirius's shoulder yet showed off her figure with high stilettos and a figure hugging black dress; accentuating the curve of her hips and her riveting smile. Her dark eyes were hooded with thick long lashes. As she stared into the camera, Draco stared back at her. The taunting smile and her sublime eyes.

'They look so good,' Luna cried excitedly. 'Imagine how good Sirius is in bed?'

'No thanks. That's incest.' She stuck her tongue at him.

'Not really,' but Draco's laughter interrupted her. Then they started laughing together. 'Okay, maybe a little,' she relented. 'But I wouldn't even care if I were you. He's so stunning.'

The conversation between them, easier and more natural than breathing, continued to ebb and flow across the table. Luna paid because Draco always paid for them and she actually remembered her card this time. It was with heavy stomachs and glee inside them that they finally got into an Uber to Luna's home in Camden. Draco was not sure quite how high he was on coke when he headed back home.

He did not expect Harry to be waiting at his penthouse for him, spread out on the bed as drunk as could be, otherwise he probably would not have had those last few bumps of coke. But Harry was too drunk to notice and he, much too desperate to mention a word.

They fucked for most of the night.

* * *

Hello again! Really hope you like this! In regards to any unanswered queries or reviews that there might be, please message and I will make sure I have gotten back to you- but I think I have!

This story is growing to mean so much more to me than it ever originally did, so please make sure to leave a review and tell me what you think about this story's longest chapter yet!

Love redrose xx


	11. A Quick Note

Hello

A quick message to tell those who are reading this story that I'm really grateful for all the follows and faves this story is receiving, especially in light of yesterday's update.

However, I just wanted to mention in this note that I'm also quite disheartened that whilst many of you are reading this, I'm not getting many reviews, whether to critique or provide input. In certain chapters I have not received any. I put a lot of effort into writing my chapters and making them as enjoyable as possible. One of the main reasons for that is because I get really happy when I see personally crafted reviews from readers telling me what is not so good, what went well or just a display of recognitionI feel like this story could only get better by getting to interact with readers.

I am not one of those fanfic writers who keeps chapters hostage until I get reviews because I really do love writing SLTS and getting to interact with those who similarly want to interact with me.

On another note, thanks for reading and please do continue to enjoy. Next chapter will have some arguing, some Hermione and Blaise action as well as a really cute gift from Harry to Draco.

Thank you

P.S.. If I have left any reviews unanswered I apologise profusely and urge you to remind me.

rosiered


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